Bad Moon Rising
by Green Bird
Summary: Slash. Remus is having a horrible time transforming and is growing dangerously out of control in the time of the full moon. In desperation he calls his only comfort; Sirius. Pre 5. (Chapter 5 up)
1. Notes and Notes

Title: Bad Moon Rising   
Book: Harry Potter Series   
Pairing: Sirius/Remus   
Author: Green Bird   
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, but, if I did… I'd kill Cho.   
Rating: PG-13   
Note: Happens somewhere during book #4, just so you know. Remus is having a horrible time transforming and he feels he is growing dangerously out of control in the time of the full moon. In desperation he calls his only comfort; Sirius. Implied-ness very light in this chapter. Rating will go up. Will-be angsty slash. Mmmm.

* * *

Notes and Notes

_Sirius,   
  


I do not know where you are or what you have been doing, although I do trust you have been keeping a close watch on Harry and helping him through this year, which, I admit, is turning out quite curious. I have figured you have been alluding the mob well enough, as I have not seen hide or hair of you on the news.   
  
I was compelled to write you on two accounts. One, of concern for your well-being, I do hope you are not living off rats, and two, you are the only one left I can think of to aid me. I am in a state of great distress. Although this past year has been quite difficult for the both of us, I seem not to be fairing that well.   
  
My body has grown quite rebellious in the week of which the full moon is present. I find myself neurotic and irritable and unable to sleep in the days before my transformation. Even with the Wolfsbane potion I continue to take I suffer worse then before. Now during the full moon my body seems to refuse to transform and battles with itself to keep a form it cannot. I am having memory lapses again. I wake up cut and bruised almost worse then when in school, and am in constant fear that I might have killed someone the night before.   
  
I am aware that this is a desperate plea in an unwanted time but if I was not in fear of my life I would not call upon you. I have already addressed Dumbledore on the matter and he feels the same way that I now do; I need a companion to help me through the moon. Padfoot, you are the only one left. I need you. 

  
  
Remus_   
  
Dirt covered hands cradled the piece of parchment gently in them, dark eyes reading over and over the words that had been written in a quick yet graceful motion. He could still recognize Remus's handwriting anywhere. He'd been quite surprised when another bird other than Hedwig and Dumbledore's had managed to find him and had been even more surprised at the letter in question.   
  
The Nighthawk that had delivered the message picked eagerly at the pile of animal bones he had made, despite how much Buckbeak whickered at it in frustration. Sirius stared at it once in question, and then became aware that it was waiting for him to write a response.   
  
Franticly he dug through a pile of trash on the floor for a piece of paper. Discovering a half smudged rip of parchment he snatched a broken quill up and wrote as fast as he could:   
  


_Tell me where you are. I will be there. Sirius_   
  
**. . .**

  
  
Remus Lupin sat in his small and rather shabby home in a half-abandoned suburb. Grown over with rebellious plants and backed by a wood; it was well enough out of the way and hidden by spells to keep him comfortable. He was almost curious how he would be able to fit another person and a hippogriff in the dwelling. He had a yard of course, but it was small and had a rather pathetic and crumbling wall… he'd have to think of some spells to build it up again so he could shield Buckbeak from any of his almost non-existent neighbor's eyes.   
  
For the first time in months he was actually looking forward to having his space invaded. He had so few callers within the last year he could count them on one hand. He had expected as much, and with the exception of weekly letters from Dumbledore and Arthur he had had nothing to sidetrack himself with.   
  
Now he began to fret about the mess of his home with its scattered papers and loose boards trying to prepare it for another. He had conjured up another bed in the small guest room and attempted fix all of the seeping holes in the ceiling. He could not believe that he'd allowed it to get this bad! Being unemployed almost every other month he had had more then enough time for repairs.   
  
Finally he was able to pocket his wand, but not his nerves. He had given Sirius his address hastily, hardly thinking about how he would manage to get there. Now he was wearing himself thin with wondering just how cautious his friend would be with the proposition of free food and shelter waiting for him a good hundred miles away.   
  
_He's not exactly known for his reasoning._ The man worried. _Oh please use your head about this Sirius._   
  


**. . .**

  
  
Come midnight, Remus sat himself outside in the small yard of his. He had brought up the walls as far as he could and tried his hardest to bring the few trees that existed there to their fullest foliage. Herboligy seemed to pay off.   
  
His work might have as well been in vain; fall had postponed itself as much as it could, but the air was almost constantly wet and cold and trees were shedding their summer outfits. His thinned out shoulders gave a shiver and he began to shift uneasily. Sirius was due any time now…   
  
As if on a cue there was a change in the air and the sound of wings. Large wings. Buckbeak was somewhere near and quickly Remus lit the tip of his wand. His heart was up in his throat and he prayed that they'd clear the trees.   
  
"Hey now watch it Buck! That's a tree!"   
  
In the dimly cast light from the house he saw the enormous creature throwing its wings like a pinwheel; eyes set on the ground yet trying to avoid meeting it at such a speed. The figure on its back was clinging to it like a bur, desperately trying to look as if the sudden spastic movements of the wings directly behind it were absolutely normal. There was a loud and reverberating thump as the beast made its plopped landing, and by the huffed sound it made it was obviously not keen on flying in such a cluttered area.   
  
Remus held his wand up high enough so that he could see the both of them quite clearly. His breath hitched and for the first time in weeks he felt a great surge of happiness rise in him.   
  
Sirius was attempting to look valiant in his dismount from Buckbeak, but only proceeded to be shoved by the now impatient creature. Giving it a pat of thanks he turned to beam at the wand-holder.   
  
"Moony!" He shouted, voice cheerful and teeth bore all out in the largest smile manageable. "Moony I'm glad to see you!"   
  
The use of his school name made the werewolf's spirits soar higher. "You've made it all right then?" He walked quickly up to his two guests. Buckbeak eyed him evilly and before he got a step closer he brought himself into a low sweeping bow. Obviously flattered by the greeting; the hippogriff mimicked the motion gracefully. Sirius gave a bark and threw out his hand in greeting.   
  
Remus took it gladly, realizing to his dismay that the hand he held was still too thin for his liking and rougher then sandpaper. Suddenly concerned, he sized up the mussed man before him, taking in the thinness of his face, raggy state of his hair, and not to mention the yellowed tint of still grinning teeth. He frowned; Sirius did look worlds better, but still unhealthy.   
  
On the other side of the handshake Sirius was going through the same checklist of worries. Remus had bags under his eyes and his frame seemed slacking and scarecrow-like. Lines were being etched into a face far too young to have such details and his hair was a good two decades older then he himself was.   
  
"You look…"   
  
"…terrible."   
  
Remus smirked at him. "I don't think you have the right to say such things."   
  
"Hypocrite." Sirius' expression switched from joyous to concern.   
  
"Come on then, I want to get you two inside quickly. You're freezing."   
  
The three walked up to the porch, Buckbeak cantering up after the two men, feeling as though nothing on the earth was to stop him from going in. Remus gave him a look of concern and then shrugged. Sirius lead the beast into the living room and with a few simple swishes Remus tethered him to the wall.   
  
In the kitchen he skipped tea and directly slid Sirius a mug of butterbeer. The dog's eyes widened and he grinned hungrily.   
  
"I haven't had this stuff in forever… at least not in a mug. Most the stuff I could get would be from a discarded bottle or something…" Catching the look of surprise on Lupin's face he calmed. "Um, thanks."   
  
"You'll want something to eat of course."   
  
"Why would you even ask?"   
  
Remus shrugged and smiled, pulling out a kidney pie and a plate of drumsticks. He set the heaping piles before the scrubby man at his table and watched entertained as they were torn through.   
  
After ten minutes of unashamed face stuffing, Sirius brought himself to a calm long enough to remember to pick up a napkin and attempt some bit of decency.   
  
"I should really have been eating on the floor…" He commented almost ashamed, but Remus was watching him from across the table, his thin hands folded near his own mug.   
  
"How long has it been that you've eaten actual food?"   
  
"Not long. When I go out to steal some parchment to write Harry I can nab some food from my many admirers."   
  
"So you have been writing Harry?" Lupin questioned. "Which means you're in Hogsmeade?"   
  
A ratty black head bobbed twice in confirmation. "Damn right I've been writing him."   
  
"And how's he been managing through the Tournament mess? Has Alastor been assisting him?"   
  
"Well, I'm sure he'll help. As for fairing… I think he'll do all right. Damn bad situation to get into when you're so young though. He's going to have to pull a you if he wants to come out unsliced."   
  
"A me?" Remus tilted his head in curiosity.   
  
Black winked and took a swig of his drink. "He'll have to hit the books. Ah, what am I talking about? This is Harry; he'll find a loophole. Enough about him. Now…" A dirty hand set the mug back to the tabletop and two dark eyes focused on the man across from him. "What about you Reem? You're aging by the minute. You're going to be competing with me in a while for the most ghastly looking. What's wrong with you?"   
  
"I'm just tired. I've been worried."   
  
"Touched, truly." Sirius commented dryly. "And it has nothing to do with the fact that the full moon is in about three days?"   
  
A weak smile pulled at the werewolf's mouth. "Yes, that cannot be helping can it?"   
  
"Your letter frightened me near witless… What's happening with you?"   
  
Remus cupped his face in his hand. "That is the million galleon question. What has happened to throw me into spastic transformations?"   
  
Sirius was quiet for a moment and shrugged. "Well, we both know there's no way in hell that I'm going to know. I guess all I can do is stick with you during the night."   
  
Lupin swallowed, brushing a sudden and unnecessary thought from his mind. "For now, that's all I ask."   
  
Sirius finished off his drink and looked utterly content just to be there. He blinked slowly at his friend and very softly spoke. "I'll do whatever I can for you Moony."   
  
Remus stood very slowly. Feeling as if he had been freed of some great burden, he sighed. "Well, right now I think that you can go to sleep for me. I've safeguarded the house and made up a bed for you. You look like you're on the verge of collapse."   
  
Sirius chuckled and rolled his eyes. "Hypocrite."   
  


**. . .**

  
  
The next morning Sirius sat at the table again, this time quite confused and amiss. He had woken up that morning and very cautiously searched the small house for Remus. When all reasonable places held no hide or hair of the graying man he had decided that it was simply better to wait for him.   
  
_At least he could have left me a note._   
  
From the living room there came the crack of a whip and Buckbeak's startled squawk. A second later there was a loud thump and squelching sound and the hippogriff was quiet. Sirius jumped to his feet, being quite wandless and startled that someone had just decided to pop up. Was Remus expecting people to apparate in his living room?   
  
Footsteps trudged their way down the hall and the werewolf himself appeared in the doorway. In one arm he held a bag stuffed with groceries and the other hung at his side, the sleeve of his robe soaked in what looked like blood. He smiled at Sirius despite the look of horror that was on his friend's face.   
  
"Morning. I was hoping you'd be awake."   
  
"What the hell's happened to you?" Black shouted moving forward to examine his arm. Remus simply laughed.   
  
"It's not mine don't worry. I went to Diagon Alley this morning and bought Buckbeak a couple of pounds of meat. The bag leaked." Moving over to the table he dropped the groceries and pulled out his wand. "Dergitis." The Blood left the fabric.   
  
Sirius, although recovering nicely from his flippancy, was still slightly worried. "Don't just leave like that Moony, especially not when I have no idea where you've zapped off to."   
  
"Yes, yes alright." Pulling out a cartridge from the bag he tapped it with his wand and it began to steam. "Breakfast." He muttered, gesturing to it as the rest of the bag's contents found their way to the cabinets.   
  
Once again the Animagus dived into the food, but this time used utensils. Remus sat across from him and ate as well, although his plate was far more sparse then his counterparts. Sirius caught the small detail halfway between spoonfuls.   
  
"You should eat more. You're too thin as it is."   
  
"I'm not hungry." The werewolf shrugged, pushing the food idly. He wouldn't have even made himself a plate if it could have been ignored.   
  
"You say that now but I'll try to remember to tell you that during the moon." Black shook his spoon at Remus and then proceeded to stick it in his mouth. "If you don't eat I'll have to make you."   
  
"I wouldn't hold it below you to tie me to my chair." Remus sighed and took a spoonful. "I'd like to avoid spoon-feeding for now. You need food more then me."   
  
Sirius smiled but still remained on his friend's case. "I know we're both sad scrubby things but at least I'm putting an effort. Speaking of which, I can bathe correct?"   
  
This time it was Lupin who smiled. "If you didn't ask I'd throw you in there myself."   
  
"I don't smell that bad…" He paused at the look he was receiving. Apparently smelling like a wet dog to him wasn't so bad… Finishing off his plate he stood. "Yeah, alright so maybe."   
  


**. . .**

  
  
Lupin was carefully reading a potions book in his living room. Next to him Buckbeak nibbled at the bone that had been his breakfast. Turning the pages slowly and scrutinizing over every word he was interrupted by Sirius.   
  
"Alright, I'm going to go rid you of my stench." He was cradling roughly five towels that he had pulled from the closet. "If I don't come out in two hours… get worried. However, if I come out in twenty minutes… push me back in."   
  
Remus nodded and Black disappeared down the hall to the bathroom.   
  
Once again he returned to the potions book. Thin fingers ran over the letters; _'Wolfsbane: A Preventer's First'_. Inwardly he scowled. The homemade Wolfsbane potion he had been brewing was not working as it should. Twice he had written Severus, despite how foolish he felt for asking assistance, and questioned concoction techniques. His replies were quite alarmingly patient and thorough despite how much the Potion's Master did despise him.   
  
All of his concoctions were indeed correct; he had made the potion flawlessly. It was suggested that he should take it a longer period before the moon. He had done this, but to no avail; he was not accepting the potion as he once was. Dumbledore said that he feared that he was building a resistance to it. Lupin prayed that that was not the case.   
  
He stared off to the wall, a common action now for him for several minutes, contemplating. Finally after an unrecorded amount of time, he spoke aloud.   
  
"If I am building up immunity to it, then why are my transformations so much more difficult? Why am I trying to…"   
  
But his outward muses were cut short by a rather loud and joyous singing that wafted down the hall. The voice was somewhat off-tune but interesting to listen to. Remus smirked and laughed as Buckbeak tipped his head to the sound of Sirius' singing. But his laughter grew even harder when he heard what it was.   
  
"I saw a werewolf with a Chinese menu in his hand… walking through the streets of Soho in the rain…" The bathroom door was slung open and Sirius traipsed out, oblivious to the fact that he was still in a towel and that his singing had captured an audience that included a large hippogriff and the subject of his wailing. "He was looking for a place called Lee Ho Fook's, going to get a big dish of beef chow mien…" He then let out an oddly precise howl that caused the two crowd members to slightly tip their heads. Flopping a towel down over his own head he continued. "Werewolves of London. Aaaahooo!"   
  
"Now, I don't sound like that." Said Remus with mock severity. "And I don't even like Chinese food."   
  
Sirius grinned sheepishly from under the cotton towel and shrugged. "I never was an opera star."   
  
"Where did you hear that muggle song?" Lupin was trying to stifle the laughter that it had induced.   
  
"Oh while I was roaming as Padfoot… One witch in Hogsmeade is obsessed with muggle radio; her house is filled with those noise-boxes and whatcha-call-ums… batteries! I heard it a couple of times and just loved it. Made me think of you, although I'm sure you don't go out and mutilate old ladies…"   
  
The graying man shook his head. It was by pure chance he had heard the song himself. Muggle music wasn't bad at all… perhaps he should get a radio-thing. Sirius yawned.   
  
"Are you still tired? How long did you…" His voice faded and died as the man stretched, his palms reaching for the ceiling. His eyes had captured up the muscles moving in the man's chest and abdomen, the collarbone that made a gentle v that cradled a craning neck… Lupin was suddenly very aware that there was a nearly-naked and semi-soaked man in his living room. Coughing slightly he blushed and turned his eyes away from the somewhat magnetizing sight.   
  
Black seemed to have caught his error and made some sort of sound of apology, grabbing the towel that had hung precariously on his hips and wrapping it tighter.   
  
"Sorry." He muttered. "Didn't mean to make you uncomfortable or anything Lupin."   
  
_Oh God…_ Remus winced at the sound of his surname coming from Sirius. He had only used that when they were fighting or formal. He hated the way it sounded off his tongue; almost alien.   
  
"It's nothing." He attempted to assure, not sounding very convincing. Hesitantly he looked back, trying to prove more to himself then Black that he was not by any means frightened to look at him; to look at what he'd become over the past years.   
  
___He is so worn…_ He despaired, noticing the slimness of his hips and the shadow of ribs that were showing too much for his liking. _Not like anything I remember._   
  
-But what you remember was an eighteen-year old boy. –   
  
He snuffed lightly to himself and cleared his head. He didn't need that right now, neither of them did. Even if he cared to bring it up; that was not the reason Sirius was here…   
  
_- You don't know why he's here at all. That's not your call. -_   
  
Forcing a smile on his face, the graying werewolf stood. "You'll need new robes right? Not going back into those rags that you came in. I can't say my wardrobe's any better, but we'll take a look."   
  
Cautiously Sirius followed him down the hall, confusion and worry foremost in his head. Buckbeak whickered softly as he turned away. Casting a glance over his shoulder he muttered to it;   
  
"I don't think that the full moon fix is all I've got to heal over, huh Beak?"   
  
.  
  


**TBC**

  
  
_- Green Bird_


	2. Old Stings

Title: Bad Moon Rising  
  
Book: Harry Potter Series  
  
Pairing: Sirius/Remus  
  
Author: Green Bird  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, but, if I did. I'd kill Cho.  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Note: (Happens somewhere during book #4, just so you know. Early November  
I figured, before Sirius talked to Harry in the fire.) Remus is having a  
horrible time transforming and he feels he is growing dangerously out of  
control in the time of the full moon. In desperation he calls his only  
comfort, Sirius. Slash. Little violence. Limes sooner or later. Angst.  
Lots of it. Swathed in it like BBQ sauce baby! O_o.  
  
_________________________________________________________________  
  
Old Stings  
  
______________  
  
A half an hour later found Sirius sitting back in the shabby run-down kitchen, clean robes on and two combs magically attacking his head. He winced as their small black teeth dug into his scalp, fighting hard to tear the tangles out of his still damp hair.  
  
Lupin stood a few feet away, waiting for his charmed combs to finish the battle and about to charm a pair of scissors.  
  
"If you don't mind Moony. . . could I ask you to just do that manually? The combs aren't steel blades and although I trust your charming skills. . ." He winked at the almost double-meaning phrase, "I would rather your hands do the dangerous work."  
  
"Better with the blades in my hands?" Remus raised an eyebrow to him. "It's going to be uneven. . . I've never cut anyone's hair."  
  
"I believe in you Moony!" Sirius called dramatically, breaking a smile over his face. "And when have I ever given a damn about uneven hair."  
  
"It was your prize possession in school."  
  
"Ah yes but I learned to deal in Azkaban. I grew a mop."  
  
Remus diverted his eyes quickly at the mention of the prison. Sirius noticed and sighed. "Look Reem. . . I don't want you to be nervous about that. There's too much stress on you already."  
  
"I'm sorry. . ."  
  
"Don't," Sirius snatched one of the combs that was trying to groom his eyebrow, "you dare apologize. Just don't worry."  
  
"It's hard for me you know. . . not to worry. It's just habit by now." The scissors had found there way to Sirius's hair and Lupin slowly began to trim away the ends of the long tattered strands. The Animagius's hair was split and looked a bit burnt. Remus scowled and cut off several inches.  
  
It wasn't long until the floor was littered with ebony strands of hair. Sirius had taken up to humming another muggle song that the werewolf did not know. As he cut Remus found that for the first time in fifteen years he was actually close to Black. He was combing his hair with his fingers, brushing wayward strands off of his shoulders, listening to his warm voice purr an unknown tune. . . And he smiled. For the first time in several, several months, he was happy to be with someone.  
  
In ten minutes thin hands tussled a shaggy black head, waving the locks about crazily. "You're done. Let's see how horrible I am."  
  
Sirius stood and turned, tipping his head and brushing his hair into a part. "How do I look? Absolutely dashing?"  
  
Lupin nodded at his handy-work. He would never be a muggle barber, but he did rather well at trimming back the messy mane that had been Sirius's head.  
  
"Yes, Sirius, quite dashing."  
  
. . .  
  
"So you mean to tell me that you've been home-brewing your own batch of Wolfsbane potion for the past four moons?"  
  
Black was eyeing the bottles of ingredients that Lupin had in stock near his bubbling pot of Wolfsbane that he had been making in an almost continual schedule.  
  
"Yes exactly."  
  
"And you've been taking it faithfully?" Sirius cast him a skeptical glance and Lupin sighed.  
  
"I took my last dose last night before you arrived."  
  
"Right okay. . ." The convict lifted another bottle and glared at it, the murky contents swimming. "Are you sure you've been doing it right. . . is it suppose to smell like that?" A pointed nose wrinkled at the rather rancid smell that the cauldron was giving off, and rather sadly Lupin nodded again.  
  
"It's right. I've owled Severus twice about brewing and he said that I was correct in the process. . ."  
  
"Wait hold on!" The dog spun about, obviously surprised. "You're trusting Severus? The guy that threatened to throw you back in prison with me? The hell are you thinking Reem? He's not going to help you! That's your problem!"  
  
Remus shook his head. "No I've thought of that and apparently so did he. He's had Dumbledore back each of his replies."  
  
Black blinked harshly but discontinued his attack. Dumbledore would never wish anything bad on Remus. "Why didn't you just write to the Potions Concoction Board in the Ministry?"  
  
Lupin heaved a sigh and stirred the thick goo in the bowl. It bubbled irritably. "The Board would have known why I was concocting the potion and would most likely send me a form for a pedigree instead."  
  
Sirius picked up the bitterness in the statement and frowned. Half-blood's rights were being slowly hacked away by the corrupting Ministry. Before very long he was sure that Remus would be getting even more trouble from their government then any centaur or giant would be prone to.  
  
"I'm sorry, it was a stupid suggestion." Black put the bottle back and turned in time to see a distinct shiver rack Lupin. "You okay?"  
  
"Just cold."  
  
"The moon, huh?"  
  
Lupin was concentrating hard on the mixture before him and said nothing.  
  
"You're really doing worse then you're putting off aren't you?" Black's voice was deep with concern. "Stop holding up the shield. I can't help you from out here."  
  
The werewolf swallowed and nodded. His eyes were stinging; a common symptom. If he followed the schedule he would have small muscle spasms and insomnia that night and be in pain that next morning. In three nights he would then have to survive the torture he had come to know. . .  
  
"Don't be alone in this Moony. Let me help you."  
  
Remus smiled and discontinued his stirring. He turned to his counterpart and motioned to the sitting room. "Then help me get my mind off of this."  
  
. . .  
  
Quidditch seemed to be the only thing that the two men that could discuss that didn't bring up awkward pauses from one of them. They discussed the Quidditch Cup and the foreign teams that were now competing with Europe's own in the matches. The Beijing Pen Dragons and the Australian Burras were making quite the scene in the Quidditch World, although the American Vexes and Canadian Coddwins were giving them a run for their money. Bulgaria and Ireland however were nearly unstoppable; it would be several years before a foreign team won the Cup.  
  
Conversation jumped to the Ministry and Sirius marveled at the calm air that Remus talked about the pedigree laws that were being pushed for Half- bloods and Muggle-borns in the Ministry. How the centaurs were refusing all attempts to make treaties under circumstances that the both actually believed unfair. How there were new magical species that were surfacing that could not have been made by crossbreeding; such as the wood Elves in Eastern Europe that competed with men in size and were said to be almost as beautiful as Veela. There were also the new species of wingless dragon in North America named the Sogorains that were smaller. . . (well the size of a horse) that were far more cunning then their larger cousins. They even touched on how there seemed to be a booming population of Incubi in Brazil.  
  
"Not to mention how the vampires are spreading themselves out. . . The Ministry is working with the Americas at tracking their growing population of them. Seems that there's more and more of them in New Orleans, New York, and our Amsterdam then ever before. They're looking into extermination rights."  
  
"I'll bet the bloodsuckers aren't too happy about that."  
  
"Yes, it looks as though we're on the verge of a bit of a Revolution. . ."  
  
After they had finished of several cups of tea and Sirius nearly ate all the groceries that Remus had picked up that morning they discovered that their list of small talk had saturated. Their conversation wound down and wound deeper, and despite how the both of them wanted to stay away from certain subjects. . . they were magnetized to them all the same.  
  
"It was fourteen years last week. . ." Sirius suddenly muttered from his seat in a moth-eaten armchair across from Lupin. Buckbeak was sleeping; his head nestled down near Black's feet.  
  
"I know." Remus sighed, voice a soft waft. "I can't go a Halloween without reliving. . ."  
  
"What was it like for you?" Sirius was gazing very solemnly at his friend. "I've never even heard anything from you a week prior."  
  
The werewolf pressed fingers to his lips in silent contemplation. "It was utter confusion. I didn't know what to think. The Order was in disarray and I received the news through Emmeline Vance. She was quite torn up but got to me as quickly as she could. But when I arrived there none of the Order was there going through the mess but you." He swallowed once to rid himself of the lump in his throat. "Hagrid had already left with Harry on your bike. I remember seeing you tearing through that pile of debris. . . and the second you found James. . ."  
  
"I tore out of there after Peter. Never said a word to you did I?" He was drilling Lupin with his eyes and the graying man was almost quailing under them.  
  
"I didn't know what happened. . . I thought what the rest of the Order did; you did it. It was your fault. but then why were you crying as you lifted him out? Why would you have ever betrayed the most important person in your life? I didn't know. And when Peter staged his death I was left under the impression that it had all been under some spell's control. . ."  
  
"I should have told you that night. I never should have left without saying a word." Black shook his head. "I saw you there at the edge of the house with Emmeline. I saw that look on your face, a sort of pained surprise. I was so scared and angry at so many things. beyond the fact that James was dead in my arms, that Lilly was beside him, that Harry had been taken off, beyond the fact that Peter had been the snake, but that you were innocent like me; that I had betrayed our friendship by leaving you out of our friend's fate. It was too much for me to take in at one time. . . you've got to understand Moony," There was a sudden urgency and pain in Sirius's voice as he strove to explain, "I was so scared of what I had done. . . how'd I'd upset everything and caused James' death. . ."  
  
"Stop it." Lupin held up his hand. "Don't think that for one moment. You didn't do it. It was a mistake but you're not the reason James died. You're not the reason Peter sided against us. It's not your fault by any means."  
  
"I left my trust to someone unworthy of it rather then with my own friend that I once entrusted all my soul. . ." Sirius was no longer focusing on him, but on the floor, which was now soiled with the remnants of Buckbeak's food.  
  
/Yes./ Remus watched his empty fireplace across the room. It was too cold. He needed a fire. /I had all your soul. . ./ "Once."  
  
He wasn't aware that he'd even said it aloud until Black covered his eyes with his hand and cursed. Slowly he looked up across at him, noticing the pinched expression on Lupin's lined face. "Oh God Moony. . . I'm so sorry. I come to help you and all I do is dig up those bones."  
  
The werewolf closed his eyes that were beginning to acutely sting in habit. "It's better to hear you speak about those bones then to having myself trying to bury them again."  
  
. . .  
  
The floorboard's groaned as the werewolf moved across his lounge room. Midnight seemed long ago when roaming the house, but time had barely moved on. The snoring mass that had been Buckbeak lifted his great head to gaze at him, golden eyes shining questioningly.  
  
"Can't sleep Buckbeak." Remus heard himself mutter, voice weak and tired. "I'm not trying anything." The hippogriff gave an indignant huff and set his head back to his claws.  
  
In the hallway the man stopped his walking and leaned against the wall, sighing heavily. Breathing was beginning to become a task now and he was exhausted from merely being awake.  
  
A few feet away in the wall was the door to Sirius's bedroom. To whatever higher power that would hear to it, the werewolf prayed that he wouldn't wake him. Black was certain to be upset about his restlessness, and he didn't want Sirius feeling useless when there was nothing he could do to assist.  
  
There was a sudden tightening in his stomach and he moaned as he noticed the oncoming seizure. Willing himself upright once again, Lupin struggled into his kitchen and sat at the table. His breath caught as he bent in the chair, pressing a clammy forehead against the glossed wood of the tabletop. A fitful spasm shook him, all of his muscles cramping at once and then releasing only in time to repeat the process again. Thin fingers gripped the table's edge and he waited in pain until it weakened and finally ceased.  
  
Lupin whined against the table's surface. His eyes were shut and he felt a distinct throb in his head. The moon was still two nights away, and this looked to be the worse of his transformations yet.  
  
/If only I knew why. . ./ His shoulders were nearly heaving in effort to breathe properly. /And with Sirius here. . . maybe it wasn't a good idea to ask him to come. He could be in serious danger when I transform./  
  
- No, you need him here. If he can't help heal your transformations then he can at least help heal your pain. -  
  
He smiled at the thought. He could never heal all the aches that their past had sewn. The seed had been planted years ago when their subtle feelings had become more open. . . it was some sort of dream in school, to be so close. But, as soon as hell broke loose in their world whatever small fantasy they'd held fast to was thrown into reality.  
  
And. . . that bud that they had abandoned had grown in the back of Remus' mind all those years. Surely, he didn't feel the same as before. Thirteen years was a long time. People changed.  
  
But still. . . from what he had seen. Sirius still held Padfoot deep inside him, still as strong as ever. Yet there was that pain in seeing him, that pain in knowing that there could have been a future. . . there could have been a happy ending to that old dream.  
  
Remus laughed softly, fighting the nausea back that the motion of his abdomen caused. "This isn't some muggle fairytale. This isn't some idealistic dream."  
  
. . .  
  
Sirius shifted under the miraculously soft sheets on his bed that was nestled against the wall. The guest room that he was staying in was obviously magically expanded. It was quite large and more then he'd ever have hoped for.  
  
Sighing into a pillow he relished the comfort he hadn't felt in years. He was cleanly shaven and pleasant enough smelling, and for once he felt safe, nestled under an old friend's wing.  
  
Why then. . . couldn't he sleep?  
  
"Ah Moony. . ." He breathed lightly. Oh course, he was so worried about Remus. Remus who looked decades older than he should, Remus who had survived everything the years despite the odds. Remus who's eyes swam in pain whenever he caught them.  
  
There had always been sorrow in the werewolf's eyes. . . but the pain that he had seen in the last few days with this older Remus. . . it was frightening. What did he expect? This life that he had lived was a cruel and vicious one.  
  
Rolling onto his back, the Animagus stared up at the ceiling. How was he going to help? He didn't even know what was wrong; but he'd do whatever he could to find out.  
  
-"For now, that's all I ask."-  
  
"Is it?" Dark eyes blinked at the swimming shadows that criss-crossed the white-wash surface. "Is that really all you want?"  
  
. . .  
  
From the place he stood in the door's frame, the nearly full moon glowed ominously from its hiding place behind a sparse cloud, looming and forbidding. At least, to him it was. The werewolf leant against the splintered wood, glad that his trembles had ceased long enough for him to move to the door.  
  
The night's crisp wind broke on his face, and his lungs were overjoyed at the prospect of the air that soothed their cramping, despite the cost of body temperature. Tired lids darkened his aching eyes. For a rare moment, sleep tamed him.  
  
~  
  
"Hey Moony!" His bed bowed as Sirius made a flying leap onto it, the force of the seventeen year-old boy causing several arranged homework papers to fly up. "We won the Quidditch Cup again! The Common room's in a frenzy." Padfoot's whole body was wagging in joy. "Fenn's brought out some drinks he's had in hiding, they've got them bubbling like mad. You have to come down!"  
  
"I don't want to." He didn't. A thin hand snared a floating paper on Rootworm and placed it quickly into its place.  
  
"James wants you down there. . . you could at least go down for him."  
  
"He'll see me tonight when he comes upstairs."  
  
"But Reem. . ."  
  
"James doesn't care if I attend or not." Remus glared at Sirius stiffly. "He won't notice."  
  
Black pulled his long hair almost restlessly, frown forming at the realization. "You not feeling good then?"  
  
"I'm fine." Remus replied sternly, shoving parchment into his bag.  
  
Padfoot saw through it. "Why aren't you coming down? The real reason."  
  
"Sirius. . ." He warned softly, his friend slipped up his bed, drawing close with a genuinely concerned look painted on him.  
  
"Moony. . ." A hand brushed his shoulder.  
  
"Leave it." He shoved the hand away, alarming Black. "Do you even know what it's like to be alone in a crowd?"  
  
"What. . . is that it?" "I'm. . . sick of. . . I don't know."  
  
"Smiling when crying?" Sirius suggested, thinking it was the stupidest thing he had ever said, but felt relieved when Lupin gave a small nod.  
  
"More or less." He moved to stand up, but Padfoot prevented it, pulling him down, and whether he liked it or not; into his arms.  
  
"You know. . ." he whispered, hugging him close to his chest. Remus felt the blood rush to his face. "You don't have to smile around me."  
  
Moony laughed softly, but remained where he was. Sirius was warm and comfortable, and right now. . . it seemed that there was the only place he belonged. His humor turned into a happy sigh as his shoulders were rubbed in comfort.  
  
"I can't believe you." Padfoot muttered after a minute, pulling back to stare at his friend. Was that hurt in his voice? That was an odd occurrence. "How could you say you're alone?" Remus whimpered softly as Sirius gently kissed him. ". . .after I promised you you'd never be?"  
  
~  
  
The spell of sleep he had been entranced in diffused into the darkness as he awoke. A small cry passed his slightly parted lips. For one reason, he had seen sleep, and for a second, he had dreamt the only thing that caused more pain then the luminous moon.  
  
"Remus?"  
  
His body jerked in alarm and he spun quickly to the sounding of his name. Too quickly for the state of rest it had been holding. His leg folded under him and giving a gasp of surprise he fell. When he hit the floor, it didn't feel the way he suspected it would. Perhaps that was because Sirius had nearly dove to catch him and respectfully missed, only landing on the ground a second before Remus.  
  
Quickly, Black twisted to gently push Lupin up on his knees, a look of absolute alarm and concern on his face. somewhat like an aged mirror of the face in his dream.  
  
"Reem. . . Reem are you alright? I'm so sorry for sneaking up on you like that. . ."  
  
"It's alright." He breathed, attempting to lift himself off the icy floor. Thin, yet strong hands straightened him instead. He tottered for a moment on his feet and Sirius's hold on him remained. "Why are you awake?"  
  
"Why do you keep asking my questions?" Black's hair was wild about his head, newly-trimmed sable scattered about his gaunt face.  
  
"It is difficult to sleep. . ." He assured; the answer was not appeasing his questioner.  
  
"Then why didn't you wake me up? You shouldn't be wandering around alone."  
  
"I don't want to bother you." Remus tried to push Sirius' hands off, but this time they weren't letting go.  
  
"What bothers me Lupin. . ." Oh that horrible word again. . . "Is that I wake up to hear you crying in pain." There was anger there, but not so much as a tangible despair. "I'm supposed to be helping you."  
  
"Then please, Black, let me go."  
  
Sirius drew his hands back as if stung. Remus put his arm out against the frame of the open door and steadied himself, casting his look away from the man before him.  
  
Lupin's throat tightened and he inwardly screamed at himself. How dare he strike out at the one person that was more then willing to help! He shivered as the wind swept through the door. Sirius suddenly moved back and away, and from where he had positioned his head downward, Remus could not see where he went.  
  
Footsteps came forward again and he found himself being wrapped in a blanket. It was still warm; from Padfoot's bed. Black carefully wound it around his shoulders. When the werewolf felt how his hands were cautious to touch him, avoiding any physical discomfort, he spoke.  
  
"Padfoot. . ." The wolf breathed softly as his body was wrought with tremors. That name. . . how brilliant to say that name. "Padfoot, I'm sorry."  
  
"Don't be." Sirius's voice was monotone and somewhat distanced.  
  
He meant to say something more. . . something about him not wanting him to have let go. . . how he really wanted nothing more; but the cold that had taken him was too much. Whining softly, all of his will shattered like a dropped glass; he didn't want to be Remus Lupin anymore, he wanted to be. . .  
  
"Moony. . ." Sirius had moved closer, bringing one arm up and around him and pulling him in. "God, you're freezing."  
  
The werewolf leaned in to the offer of his friend's embrace. Turning so that his back was pressed against a heated, yet slender chest. Two protective arms enfolded over his, locking him in an envelope of warmth.  
  
With each passing shiver, Sirius gave him a firm squeeze as if to extract it from his trembling body. Forgetting whatever barriers they had set up, Black let his head fall forward to rest his chin on the shoulder before him.  
  
"I'm so weak. . ." The wolf muttered.  
  
"Weak?" Padfoot sounded amused at this. "You're stronger then anything Moony. . . you've endured everything alone. . ."  
  
There was a rustle of the wind as it pushed the cloud covering across the glowing night sky.  
  
"I've tried not to."  
  
The moon peered its eye down on them, and the werewolf stiffened at its gaze. The dog held to him protectively and glared at the whitened orb. Slowly he put his mouth to Moony's ear.  
  
"It's three nights then?" Was the soft question he presented.  
  
"Yes," he breathed, "three nights."  
  
Padfoot shifted his embrace. A hand moved to cover one of Moony's that clutched a corner of the blanket he was entwined in.  
  
"Promise me that you're not alone."  
  
A soft smile grew on Moony's face. "Promise."  
  
~  
  
*~ TBC ~*  
  
.  
  
_________________________________________________________________  
  
Heh. I'm such a Drama Queen when I write. Ever just read something you wrote and then afterward, say to yourself that it's sappy enough to make maple syrup?  
  
On the conversation they were having about the critters and species. I inserted a few fun write-ins for my own amusement. Like the elves of Tolkien, the Vampires of New Orleans, and my own Sogorains. (Very common in original works I do, as they are my children.) Write-ins are great. They lower cholesterol.  
  
Next chapter will come in a long while. Sorry. Will you still love and review me? I need it for fuel.  
  
Arigatou ~ Green Bird 


	3. Fire and Flesh

Title: Bad Moon Rising   
Book: Harry Potter Series   
Pairing: Sirius/Remus   
Author: Green Bird   
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, but, if I did… I'd kill Cho.   
Rating: PG-13 or more or something   
Note: Happens somewhere during book #4, just so you know. Early November I figured, before Sirius talked to Harry in the fire. Slash. Little violence. Illness. Limes sooner or later… actually later. Angst too.   
**Notes on this Chapter:** Sorry it took so long! Er...Lupe's getting sicker. A lot sicker. Vomit ensues, as well as an outburst and partial transformation… oh! And that one thing too… you know what? Just read it!!   
  
.  
  
**Bad Moon Rising**   
  
Fire and Flesh   
  
  
  
The heels of worn hands rubbed fiercely at aching eyes, pressing them back into the skull and causing the werewolf to witness more stars then he had last night. Beyond the dancing myriad of white speckles in his vision he heard the clatter of dishes and the like as Sirius rooted around his kitchen. The kitchen that his own houseguest had banned him from working in.   
  
Without a wand especially for himself and having had a rather entertaining encounter with Lupin's own bull-headed wand (much foul-smelling gas was involved) the dog had resorted to preparing food hands-on; something that was very dangerous. Twice he had touched the teakettle without remembering that it was indeed a red-hot object and that these things really did burn. He had never been permitted a stove in Azkaban and having only have had a year of real independent living (with a wand), the memory of cooking was taking a very slow time in returning to him.   
  
It was his luck that their scones were eaten cold, because he had developed a severe hatred for a magical stove by the time the tea hissed in it's pot.   
  
From his hunch in the chair, Remus turned bleary eyes up as Sirius dropped a cup, cursing fluently. The werewolf's hand moved to grip his wand, but the hard, dark stare he received from the action halted his fingers.   
  
"I told you to stay put." Black muttered, removing two other teacups and filling them with the boiling water.   
  
"You broke it." Lupin observed, looking down at the shattered porcelain.   
  
"The shards will be there for you to deal with after breakfast, there'll be no magic before you eat. You don't even have enough energy to keep your eyes open."   
  
"It has nothing to do with lack of energy." A cup and saucer was set between his hands and the heat from the water moved to his fingertips. A tea packet floated in the liquid, staining it an amber-brown. A single scone, alone and awkward on its plate, accompanied the tea and had been set by the wolf's right hand. "I'm not hungry."   
  
"But you're eating." The chair opposite him groaned as Sirius moved into it, gripping his own cup.   
  
"Padfoot…"   
  
"Moony, humor me, please." It was a soft plea, but that now familiar hard stare that caught him over the ridge of Sirius' cup made it a command.   
  
Wrestling the scone with his teeth, Remus stomached the unwanted nutrients down, washing it with the hot beverage that had caused such a fuss. Across him, Black studied like a watchdog, making sure that every morsel was taken in.   
  
Remus' vision began to slip as he swallowed the last of his tea. Grey irises struggled to focus again, concentrating hard on his counterpart's hands as a focal point. A good minute passed of dizzying blurred pictures, but eventually everything became clear once more.   
  
It was then he noticed the gentle way Sirius was holding his teacup. At first it seemed that the shattering of the first had taught his hands to be more cautious, but it became apparent that it was because it was hurting him to hold tight to the warm surface.   
  
"Let me see your hands Sirius."   
  
A blush rose to his thin face and a trimmed head shook in negitation. "It's nothing. Your stove bites, that's all."   
  
Remus frowned, drawing the lines of his face deeper and the dog complied hesitantly, setting the tea down to turn both hands palm-out. Red burn marks painted themselves brightly across the skin, evidence of a clumsy encounter with a vicious teapot.   
  
"It must have gotten word from my wand to give you a hard time." Remus plucked the thin willow stick from his pocket and motioned for Sirius to come to him. Giving a sour look at the idea of making the werewolf perform magic for his sake, he slowly came, kneeling on the floor and holding out his injured hands.   
  
Very gently, Moony traced his fingertip across the wounded and raw skin, gaining an unearthly shutter from Black. The skin felt abnormally hot, as if it had become the metal that had inflicted it. The point of his wand came down and quietly he muttered some medicinal spell.   
  
A cool, thick liquid seeped out, spreading as if butter over bread, to cover all the burn. The skin almost steamed at the fluid's touch, but lost its hurtful red complexion.   
  
"As effective as ever." Black complimented, watching his skin ice over.   
  
"I'd hope so." The wand flicked again and the broken teacup put itself back together, jumped onto the countertop, and fled to the cupboard.   
  


**. . .**

  
  
The kitchen table was chosen to double as an investigation area; star charts and lunar calendars, zodiac and astronomy booklets, and an assortment of trinkets lay oddly out, each more puzzling then the next. The two men leant over the mess, each pointing out random constellations on the charts.   
  
"Do you think that this cluster has any correspondence to the moon?" Sirius traced his finger across the paper, showing the intended path of the heavenly bodies.   
  
Remus frowned at they dots on the parchment. "I never took well to astronomy."   
  
"You think I did?"   
  
The werewolf blinked at the statement. "Professor Senille loved you."   
  
"Yes," Sirius hefted a chart in front of him, not really observing it, but wanting to look as if he was useful. "Only because of my name."   
  
"Oh, yes." The werewolf tapped the Dog Star on the map. "She pointed your star out every chance she got."   
  
"I remember whenever she was searching or reading us she always found la lune on you. It was all I could do to keep collected when she suggested you had a love affair with the moon…"   
  
"The love/hate relationship." Remus shifted several already scanned pictures in his hands, muttering slightly. "It is really more of a hate then anything."   
  
Tired of holding the useless chart, the dog set it down. "I wouldn't doubt that, especially now. Luna's never really done anything good for you has she?"   
  
Before thinking, Lupin muttered; "She's brought you to me." A dark blush covered both of their faces simultaneously. Black looked as though he was going to speak, but the werewolf cut him off. "These Lunar charts are useless… they're years old." A pile was made out of the aged parchment.   
  
Black's hair was ruffled as he scratched his head, glaring down at the mass of information. "I have no idea what we're looking for."   
  
Remus coughed unintentionally, ignored it, and raised an eyebrow to his counterpart. "You were the one who suggested we look at this astronomically."   
  
"Yes." A palm lay flat against the table and Sirius frowned at the books before him. "But I don't know what we're looking for… I do know what we are trying to find."   
  
"Something odd and out of place…" Remus flipped casually through a random chapter about Sagittarius as Black took to holding up the annual calendar. "Something like…"   
  
"Like this!" The calendar was slammed onto the table. "Look here at this month's moon!"   
  
Lupin read beneath the large circle that represented the moon. His eyes widened painfully. "It's a sanguine."   
  
"I was going to say eclipse, but I guess you could say sanguine…"   
  
"A blood moon. It reaches a crimson tone in the middle of the eclipse." Lupin gripped the calendar, reading all the information he could. "These things do give a hell of a bad time if I remember correctly."   
  
"So that's it?" Sirius looked over his shoulder, obviously excited that he'd been useful.   
  
"It might be… but the month's before this…"   
  
"Well, look here." The dog lay his index finger on a constellation map. "Look at this cluster here, I noticed it before. Its movement is odd and intercepts the moon's sky traverse… right there." Sirius scowled at the alignment, trying to remember back to what exactly this meant. "But the way that it's moving into this area… that's only been happening this past few months, starting directly on the cycle you told me."   
  
"Perhaps." Remus pressed his fingers to his chin just as he always did in thought. "It's a good observation, and these eclipses have bothered me before. This might be it." He scowled deeper in serious debate. "But some things just don't add up… they happen so often that…"   
  
"I'll need to read up on this constellation and the new position that it's taking to too, maybe that has something to do with it." Sirius held the map up yet again, eyes darting over it. He felt a sudden swell of pride in himself for the discovery. If this was truly it then what was wrong was not biological, but astronomical… and while they couldn't control the stars, eventually the movement would pass…   
  
All thoughts were interrupted by Remus's sudden moan of surprise.   
  
"What's wrong?" Sirius' ears pricked at the sound of distress, turning to stare at him in newfound fear.   
  
A look of shock passed over the werewolf's features and he grimaced; another fit was on its way. Lupin felt his muscles cramp and gasped wearily as the pain shot his limbs. "Seizure." He coughed, gripping the table, as the muscles in his legs grew too weak to hold him steady.   
  
"Oh no…" Sirius forgot whatever he had been on. He had not seen Remus's seizure last night, but he had heard it. What was he to do? Memory resurfaced of a night long lost to time… A young boy with shaggy brown hair lay on the floor, his eyes rolling and limbs thrashing. He and James had been so scared…   
  
_-I'll have to hold him. He might hurt himself…-_   
  
Once again, Lupin found himself enclosed within the safety of Black's arms. The werewolf's own were pressed tight to his sides in the embrace: preventing his limbs from flailing. He gasped at the sudden comfort, but had little time to appreciate it as the all too familiar pain tore him in two.   
  
"Hold on… you'll be okay." Sirius whispered, more to himself then to Remus who had begun to shake. A reply to the statement would have been given if the werewolf had not pinched a fold of his protector's robe between his teeth to prevent doing the very same on his tongue. A thin hand held his head tight to Padfoot's temple and their breathing rasped. Black's lip shook at the sound of his friend's pain and he grappled for a stronger hold on him, burying his face into the wolf's tussled hair as the spell wound down.   
  
They were almost prepared to let go when Remus felt the jolt come again, this time twice as strong and three times as fierce. His back curled and a pained moan sprouted deep within his throat. Fingers pressed themselves into Black's sides with bruising force as it roared within his head in its pass like the raging of a storm. Sudden spasms almost claimed both of their balance; nearly toppling them.   
  
Padfoot felt that his heart was in his throat. He didn't know what else to do but hold Remus as he suffered; clawing and biting at his robes in desperation. A final cry sounded from the werewolf; loud and tortuous as he finally stiffened then fell limp and against his support.   
  
"Moony…" Black gasped, cupping his head gently as the man in his arms trembled in his exhaustion. "Is it over?"   
  
The answer didn't come, instead, quicker then would be advised, Lupin pushed away with all of his zapped strength and spun about to fall onto the counter. Before Sirius could assist him the wolf was pulling his way desperately over to the sink. Upon successfully tipping his head to the basin, he vomited.   
  
Alarmed, Padfoot gripped Remus's shoulders and held him steady, making sure that in his heaving he wouldn't slam his head into the tap. The session was short-lived for the factor that all that had been consumed that morning was tea and the forced scone. Soon Lupin was left merely retching into his kitchen sink.   
  
Gasping, the werewolf finally drew himself up, hands searching for a cloth to clean his face. Sirius took the liberty himself, wiping away any foul remnants as the water was turned on to wash away the rest in the sink. Moony's face looked to be on fire and he closed his tearing eyes as the cloth passed its way over his lips for a third time. His eyes stung so badly; they hurt even now when not in use.   
  
Sirius' voice carefully roused him. "Are you done?" A nod. "Do you need to do it again?"   
  
"I haven't much left to get rid of." His voice trembled the way it often does after such a spell.   
  
The weakest smile that the dog could manage crossed his features and he held him gently by the shoulders. "Come on… that's enough of this studying for now. Please, just go and relax."   
  
"Alright…" Lupin tried to bid his feet to take him to the study where he could rest, but the only action received from the command was a weak tremor of his knee. Embarrassed, he wrenched his entire body, bidding his legs to respond.   
  
"Can't you walk?" Sirius repositioned his grip on his friend, one arm slipping around and supporting him. There was a look of surprise on Remus's face as he stared down at his unconscious limbs.   
  
"This has never happened before." His brows knitted and he frowned.   
  
"I can take you to your study. It's no problem." Sirius sighed as he hefted Remus's weight, one of the werewolf's arms wrapped around his neck and gripped weakly as he tried once again to walk. All he could manage was to keep them steady enough not to take both of them down.   
  
It was an awkward site; two scarecrow-ish men stumbling down the hall, one literally dragging the other as it fought to move itself independently. Thankfully the only spectator to this was a groggy hippogryph.   
  
Sirius huffed as Lupin finally collapsed into his chair. "Better then?"   
  
"I don't know why this is happening… I never become lame after a spell!" Lupin glared at his knees reproachfully.   
  
"It must be temporary." The dog blinked at him, hoping he wasn't simply being optimistic. "I bet it's just from the shock. You'll be okay."   
  
Remus nodded, the motion making his head reel.   
  
"Close your eyes and get some rest Moony." Sirius patted his shoulder and smiled, despite the attempt to keep a pleasant look on his face, a sort of frantic worry was laced to his features. "I've got to go out for a second…"   
  
"What? That's not safe…"   
  
Sirius raised his hand in defense. "As Padfoot." He assured. "I need to get Buck his lunch. I'll be gone no more then an hour, please just try to rest." A dark eye winked. "I don't want to find you wandering about again when you should be sleeping like last night. You wouldn't want me to tie you down."   
  
Remus rolled his eyes and punched one of his numb thighs. "I don't think you need to worry about that."   
  


**. . . **

  
  
Merely an hour later, sleep finally overpowered Lupin, leaving him snuffling in his armchair where he had taken to studying another book that had been conveniently resting on the side table. It lay folded in his hands now and his head fell down to his chest, scruffy chin resting on his collar.   
  
Buckbeak watched the werewolf sleep closely, observing the rise and fall with every breath and the whimpers of sleep. Sirius had commanded that he guard him faithfully or no food would find itself to his mouth… that was an awful alternative.   
  
A coarse-haired tail switched as two large black eyes blinked at the figure. The hippogryph did not exactly like the man in the chair. True, it bowed beautifully, but it took nearly all the attention that he so loved, walked restlessly at night and carried an odd scent on it. A scent that was so like his keeper's, but far more tainted. Dangerous… Maddening… Sickened.   
  
The hawk-like head turned suddenly to see a large shaggy dog trotting down the hall to him. A sizeable hare lay dead in his jaws; freshly caught and killed. Buckbeak gave a hungry chirp, forgetting the sleeping one before him. The black dog dropped the hare and motioned to the chair quickly, requesting for quiet. It was hardly noticed by the hungry beast that plucked up the food in a hasty bow and retreated to the corner to lunch.   
  
Padfoot watched the hippogryph a moment and then turned his gaze to the man asleep in the chair. Avoiding the creaking boards of the sensitive floor, the dog moved in close, touching his nose to one limp hand. The gesture was merely meant to be a check, but the simple examination became complicated as he breathed in.   
  
The smell he received was not anything close to healthy or expected. The salty scent of blood and the sour bite of open skin filled his nostrils and panicked, Padfoot pushed his snout forcefully up the man's sleeve, questing out the smell.   
  
Lupin woke with a start, the cold wet of a nose on his forearm startling him out of his rare and light sleep. He looked down alarmed to see Sirius in his dog form with his head half up his sleeve.   
  
"What the…" The dog pulled away at the sound, shaken from its discovery. "What are you doing?"   
  
The animal at his feet twisted oddly, dark body changing. Soon a man was kneeling on the floor in front of him, a look of terror on his face. Without a word, Sirius gripped Remus' wrist and pulled the fabric of the robe back. A circle of open flesh, hardly larger then a coin, lay embedded in a pale forearm. The skin around the flaming red was whitish and discolored awfully; a sore.   
  
"How long have you had that?" Black had a look on his face as if he could not come to terms with this new horror.   
  
Lupin wrenched his arm back and pulled the fabric of his sleeve over the wound. "They appear." He stated, fingers gripping his wrist as if to protect the sore from further inspection.   
  
"Remus, that's nothing to take lightly! Doesn't it hurt?"   
  
"It's just another symptom. I do not feel them after a time."   
  
"After a time?!" Sirius's hand tried to gently remove his friend's so he might take another look, but the thin fingers gripped; determined. "Haven't you treated it? What if you get more? What if they grow?"   
  
Remus's face seemed suddenly stony and Sirius took a moment to understand.   
  
"There are more." The dog's eyes widened in surprise, he felt a turn of anger. "Have you've been hiding them?"   
  
"They're not serious wounds!" Remus explained, almost pleading despite how his gaze was hard and set.   
  
"They're sores! Rotting areas of flesh!" Black stood, face livid. "You tell me that's not serious? You go and hide this from me when they could be healed? What are you…"   
  
"It isn't important, don't concern yourself…" His voice was growing tight…   
  
"It is!" Sirius's anger could be scented now. "I have to…"   
  
"Why do you have to take on this?" The explosion came faster then lightening, Lupin's face cracked from indifference to rage and his voice hissed frighteningly. "I will not submit myself to total dependency! I've let you help me, but I will not stop assisting myself! Aid me, yes, but I do not want a damn keeper!" A thin arm pushed suddenly down on the arm of the chair, throwing the werewolf upward and causing his book to tumble loudly to the floor. His limp legs looked to crumple under him but they held, almost as if fueled by his new anger.   
  
Black stood shocked as he watched his friend teeter before him, eyes sharp and infuriated. Something was very wrong… this rage was only present before transforming… "Remus, calm down."   
  
"No! Why must I? Why can't I rave on like the lunatic I'll eventually become?" Legs were trembling in effort. Lengthened canines were shown as he spoke and something of fear erupted in Sirius's stomach. The new beast before him seemed to realize it and smiled horrifically. "Not so helpful now when you see it?" It seethed, head rocking as it grinned insanely.   
  
There was a yellow tint infesting grey irises. It moved like a rolling fog, devouring what it could of the weak man it possessed. Sirius stepped back from Remus, there was another hiss from behind him… Buckbeak had noticed the change.   
  
The werewolf jerked its head in alarm and stared at the hippogryph. A barrel chest had inflated in threat, feathers poofing out in every direction as hooves stamped behind it. The action he had planned slowed; this attack was useless now that the animal knew.   
  
Suddenly, it seemed as though the beast had been struck with something and its eyes rolled back into its head. Black's hand wrapped around Buckbeak's neck and he watched as the monster of his friend wound down. Slowly the old inhabitant of the body pushed his way back.   
  
Thin legs continued trembling and hands pressed hard to the possessed eyes that had danced so fiercely now. Breaths became ragged and suddenly in sobs. The weakened legs finally gave out.   
  
"Remus…" He moved a step forward but Buckbeak had snagged his robes in his mouth.   
  
"Why does it crawl like this? Its movement… like insects." The whimper was coming from the huddled man upon his dusty hardwood floor. "God I'm cold…"   
  
"Remus?" Sirius called louder, trying to rouse him once again. This time the tussled patch of grey-brown hair shifted as he turned to look at him. Everything stopped. If Black had been a least bit frightened before, it was nothing compared to the feeling of terror that was reflected at him now.   
  
Lupin stared at him, face slack and frightened, eyes red and bloodshot. The look of awful recognition molded his expression. "Oh God Sirius… I didn't…" Remus almost looked as if he were going to crawl towards him, but decided against it. "Tell me I didn't hurt you. Tell me I didn't."   
  
"You didn't."   
  
"But I will." The whisper was soft, an observation more to himself then any other. "I will hurt you. There is no way to satiate that… that thing it makes me." Lupin gripped the side table and used it for leverage. His whole body was crooked. "I should never have asked you here."   
  
Then, without giving him another look, Remus began to stumble towards the staircase at the end of the room, using his fisted hands to grope along the rough paneling of the wall. Twice he stumbled and picked himself up. When he caught the banister he turned himself around in a wide arch to fall upon the staircase. On his hands and knees, like the animal he was becoming, he crawled up the stairs step by step, heading to his bedroom. Halfway up his right leg became limp once more but he carried on oblivious, dragging himself to sanctuary.   
  
Below him in the study, Buckbeak fought to keep hold of Sirius's collar.   
  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
  
There were no marks on his palms, no merits, nor scars, or any proof of his faulty teapot incident that morning, but despite of the lack of evidence and the healing that had taken place, it felt as if all of his skin had become that sensitive and raw burnt flesh.   
  
When a cool brush of air passed him, a soft breath of the house and her many drafts, his entire body shook in response. It was eerie here, the feeling of the space he had taken up at the base of the stairs was anything but the warmth and hospitality he had felt last night in the den only a few steps away. The staircase herself lead upward into an attic of darkness, the void uninviting.   
  
Remus had been up in that void for nearly two hours.   
  
Sirius had gone back to the table and organized the maps, he had taken Buckbeak out to roam the small and forsaken yard, he had even tried to study up on the constellation he had become so set on… but against everything he did he was pushed back to standing at the bottom of these stairs.   
  
What had happened not long ago was indeed a terrifying look at what was the real reason he had been called upon. No matter what illusions he had cooked up for being asked to come, this was the real and raw reason: Remus was loosing grip. He was no longer able to control his own body… the two separate beings that lived in him were melding together to something completely different. How could this happen? Was that the true power of the stars?   
  
"I came to help." Sirius whispered to himself, glaring into the open maw of the stairs. "I promised not to leave." He gripped the banister of the stairway, and the hippogryph that had once again curled itself on the den's dusty floor peered up, a troubled look in its animal eyes.   
  
The dog continued to think, urging himself on. _So, if you're in pain, I'll heal you. If you're in the dark, I'll light a flame._ The worn sole of a shoe pressed to the first platform of a creaking step.   
  
"You can't get rid of me now Moony, not now that I'm so involved." The figure moved up the staircase without any more hesitation, heading into the dark recesses of the house's rafters. _I care too much for you for that._   
  
The upstairs of the small household consisted only of a water closet and the master bedroom. The doors to the bedroom were shut and the space beneath it against the floor was dark… Remus was most likely sleeping. Sirius rested his hand upon the old mottled silver doorknob, uncertain if he should simply enter before knocking. The thought of a knock seemed far too loud and harsh in the gentle nature he was taking this investigation, so he slowly turned the handle.   
  
A heavy oak door swung inward, revealing the darkness of Remus's bedroom. It was a sizable room… he had seen it before when he needed to fetch fresh robes from the large wardrobe against the wall. Next to the lumbering thing a full size mirror stood, reflecting the dull and clouded light of the two adjacent windows. A curtain had been thrown across them and their grey cloth deadened the room's energy.   
  
The main affair was naturally the sizable four-poster bed set centered against the far wall. Its draperies were drawn up and tied with cord to the posts, leaving the solitary figure in the bed's embrace quite visible.   
  
With caution, Sirius crept around to the unmoving figure. He heard no snarl, nor whimper, or even snore as he approached, yet saw the body move in breath. Remus was turned onto his side, face away from Black, arms around his face.   
  
For minutes all Padfoot did was watch his friend in silence, but in that silence his heart grew loud. He listened so carefully for the deep breathing of sleep, but it wasn't present. The sound instead was short gusts of air that rattled and occasionally paused.   
  
"Remus?" He whispered. Was he awake?   
  
Something cold spread through him fast and he inhaled the scent of the room: musk and dust, but something else made his dog nature shifty. Sweat… It was strong.   
  
"Remus?!" His hand gripped the protruding shoulder aimed at him. Under the fabric of the werewolf's robes, the flesh burned hot. In panic Sirius wrenched his friend onto his back and cried in shock.   
  
Lupin's eyes were open half-mast, only the bloodshot whites visible under purpled lids. A mouth hung open, trying to draw breath and there was the stain of blood upon the showing teeth. The source of it had apparently been the werewolf's forearm; bite marks bruised it darkly.   
  
But, all of these things were unconcerning; the real factor of terror was the sheen of cold sweat that lay in beads over ghostly pale skin. His clothing, pillow, and grayed hair were matted with the salty liquid.   
  
Sirius watched as a thin hand trembled in a shiver, tightly gripping on the cloth of the breast of Moony's robe. The dog pressed his hand to Remus's slack cheek. He was searing. A fever… almost as if fueled by Hell's furnace.   
  
It was like the fire of that damned teakettle over again.   
  
He felt himself break into a panic… What the hell was happening?   
  
  
  


***~TBC~***

  
  
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A.N.  Oh, I know I'm mean to leave it there, but I must! If my writing goes too long then less of you will read it. I'll try hard to get the next installment done quickly.   
I don't know anything about astrology… so I would like it if someone emailed me and told me something interesting. Anything. Honestly…   
Oh, and if you don't already know: the title 'Bad Moon Rising' is a song from _Creedence Clearwater Revival_… it's old Bayou Style music. I have no idea why I love it.   
  
I reward my reviewers with tasty lemons! _~ Green Bird_


	4. Tender

Title: Bad Moon Rising   
Book: Harry Potter Series   
Pairing: Sirius/Remus, implied Sirius/James   
Author: _Green Bird_   
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, but, if I did… I'd kill Cho.   
Rating: PG-13 or more or something   
Note: (Happens somewhere during book #4, just so you know. Early November I figured, before Sirius talked to Harry in the fire.) Slash. Little violence. Limes sooner or later. Angst. Lots of it. Swathed in it like BBQ sauce baby! Oo…   
**Notes on this Chapter:** Mmmm… illness. I'm so mean to all of you. I do this thing at my leisure… how awful of me. This took way too long. I apologize in blood. Honestly. Some depression, fever, nekkid-ness, suicidal thought and even a tad of fluffy angst in this one. And you know what I noticed… I did two different story chapters at the same time that had to do with ointment rubbing. Wtf? I dunno. Ointment!   
  
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* * *

**Bad Moon Rising  
  
Tender**

  
  
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"God damn it!" The wand flew across the room and clattered noisily to the floor. Sirius gave it a scathing look before turning panicked back to the bed. He couldn't levitate Remus off of it using the werewolf's wand; it was continuing to be stubborn, beside the urgency in the commands given to it.   
  
Sirius tore away the bed sheets that Remus had managed to pull up around himself. He leant far over the ill man's body, slithering an arm under a bent neck and using the other to hook under his knees. The man groaned loudly as he hoisted the unconscious one off the bed, pulling him close to his chest. Thin legs quaked under the combined weight and Black tottered where he stood.   
  
Remus's limp body was burning against the flat of his torso… he needed to sedate this fever! The water closet outside the door was too small to be of any real use… he would need to take him downstairs.   
  
Damn that stubborn wand.   
  
The stairs groaned at the combined weight of the two men centered on it and Sirius tottered like a sapling in a storm. Even in this sudden burst of energy that he had been given; Remus was still heavy. The dog's robes grazed the wall as he used it as support to his back and climbed down sideways. The staircase was much taller than he had remembered it.   
  
From the den Buckbeak watched, now nervous at the sight of the crazed man cradled carefully in his human's arms. Black paid no attention to the cooing creature as he literally stumbled past him, eyes set on the hallway across the room. Remus sagged like a dead man in his hold, but the heat of his fever-plagued body and the sudden tremble that shook the wolf's taught muscle was almost terrifying.   
  
The door of the bathroom swung open unceremoniously. A bath tub, with a showerhead hovering suspiciously above it, lay against the wall to his right. A long counter, covered with a pale and slightly stained top, sat by the opposite wall. Lifting his unconscious friend only inches higher, Sirius deposited the werewolf on top of it and turned to the tub.   
  
Complicated silver knobs greeted him and once again he was thankful for the long bath he had taken; it had given him time to become accustom to the workings of the tub. In three quick twists lukewarm water gushed from the swan-necked faucet, pooling in the ivory basin of the tub. After punching the stopper into the drain, Sirius turned back to his ward, now slacking over, completely unconscious, on the counter. He could see the werewolf's body tremble in the fever.   
  
Boney hands dove unchecked into the fabric of Remus's robes, tearing away at the buttons, ignoring the few that actually popped off in the process. The tattered grey robe was peeled off of sweat-damp shoulders to show the simple shirt and pants that the werewolf adorned under it all. They too were wet with the sweat of his fever and stuck to him awkwardly.   
  
Black sat the senseless Remus on the very edge of the counter, holding him in place and letting his head fall forward to his shoulder as he hooked his hands around the hem of the shirt. The dog didn't even notice that he had removed it until his hands brushed the bare skin of Lupin's back.   
  
But it didn't matter at all… not at all. Remus was nearly dying, there was no time to think, there was no time to even breathe.   
  
Removing his pants was a far more difficult operation.   
  
Black had to hitch half of his werewolf up onto the counter to snap off the belt buckle and draw the cord from around the garment's hem. From there he fisted both of his hands in the corduroy cloth and tugged downward hard. It took a few yanks, but soon Remus' pants were in the vicinity of his knees, in which Sirius could put him back on top of the counter to take care of the rest of it.   
  
The fact that the cloth stuck to the werewolf like glue was no help at all, and uncomfortably enough, everything had slipped off with the pants. Black had had all intentions to leave undergarments well alone, but the stubborn pants had decided this for him and grabbed hold of everything it could, dragging them off as well.   
  
The lukewarm water of the bath had filled and with a twist, the water stopped itself. Setting his jaw, Padfoot scooped the wolf into his arms once more, this time watching where his hands fell. Remus' skin was hot and slick with sweat but Black ignored it as he kneeled gently over the tub to make sure he wouldn't slip when dunking him.   
  
Slowly, Sirius slipped Moony's body under the water, careful not to knock his lolling head against the porcelain rim of the bath. The limp body shuttered involuntary as it came in contact with the cooler water, the discomfort of the heat imbalance growing. Black gripped the back of Remus's neck gently and held his face well about the water as the rest of him was surrounded by it.   
  
It was now, when all of the misleading clothes were away, could Sirius see the extent of the illness. The sores dotted Lupin's arms and chest like a leper's spots and his skin had lost all decent coloring to even prove that it was covering a living body.   
  
Scooping water in his palm, Sirius dribbled some over the wolf's face, letting the drops roll off into his hair as he examined the scene before him. Remus was in horrible shape. He had never, even in all the years of playing caretaker in school, seen it this bad.   
  
Moony was too thin, his skin was mottled and corpse-like. Why hadn't he gone to the hospital? Yes, they would treat him differently than a normal wizard, but at least he wouldn't look like this!   
  
A groan near his hand diverted his attention back upward. Lupin rolled his head slightly, his half-open eyes flickering. The water temperature made him feel even colder than a fever naturally would, but the cooler liquid would bring his body back down to a safe level.   
  
Black cursed the damned wand again and would three times a minute for the next two days. It would be so much simpler with a wand. He wouldn't have had to resort to submerging him had it of worked.   
  
After a while, Padfoot unplugged the tub for a moment, letting a small amount of water leak out and then replaced it with an even colder mix. If he slowly dropped the temperature, then Lupin's body temperature would drop as well. As long as the water was not bitterly cold, they would manage through.   
  
Settling Moony's head on the back ledge of the tub, Sirius freed his hands to see what else he could do. The bite marks on Lupin's forearm were washed and he began to gently bathe his chest, noting the sores and how he'd need to take care of them after the fever fell enough for Remus to leave the bath.   
  
As he ran his eyes along the disease-riddled plane of the werewolf's chest, something caught his gaze that made his breath hitch. An old, long-healed scar ripped its way down Remus's front, starting at the collarbone and dashing diagonally down to finally stop just as it veered to the right of his abdomen. The skin of it shone slightly, still pinker than its pale surroundings. There were other scars on the werewolf as well, hundreds that crisscrossed him in odd patterns over the years. True, this particular scar was ugly, but it wasn't the way it looked that repulsed Black; it was the fact that he had been the one responsible for it.   
  
He had teased the werewolf mercilessly one full moon, all in the hopes that Moony would snap. Black had wanted to do it only to scare Prongs. The werewolf never would have lost his composure if Padfoot had not provoked him that night so many years ago… provoked him just to frighten James… just because he was mad at him. This horrible scar remained upon his one living friend just because he had had an itch to get even.   
  
Sirius touched the glossed skin, remembering that night the best he could. His hand ached at the memory of old injury, but his heart strained itself further.

__

_Prongs threw his torso back, rearing on thin yet strong hind legs, head tossing wildly. The werewolf snapped at the exposed white stomach and the stag bellowed, an awkward sound, in his sudden fear. A sharp hoof swiped downward like a piston, barely grazing the wolf's heavy head. Fangs were bore at the attacking limbs, now pawing in the air, attempting to dissuade any persistence in the battle.   
  
A short distance away, Padfoot began to pick himself up from where he'd been pressed down, blood trickling from a crushed paw. The dog barked harshly at the stag who reared again and was kicking franticly at the crazed beast that charged it. What happened next turned those barks of warning into yips of horror.   
  
The wolf had lunged, intending its teeth for the stag's throat… but the motion was cut short. The driving nail that was Prong's hoof connected with the werewolf's chest, cutting into the shoulder and drawing a deep diagonal gash down its breast. A burst of sound came from the agape jaws, a strangled howl, as the wolf fell heavily to the ground.   
  
Immediately James fell out of form, tumbling onto his back. He jerked himself up roughly, spinning like mad and moved forward to the creature that lay injured. Sirius bounded up, whining and yipping; still the dog. Hardly thinking, he rushed to the wolf's aid only to have it snap at him. Spume foamed on its lips and its eyes glazed in pain. A black pool of blood had formed around it, flowing freely from the wound in its chest, and it gave a great shudder. James stood only feet away, eyes widened in terror at the writhing creature before him; soaked in its own blood and passing into shock. One hand gripped his wand and he fumbled with it as if he'd never had even seen one before.   
  
Sirius molted his animal form and stood reeling to the side, the groaning beast at his feet, staring incredulity at James. "Do something!" He shouted, gesturing wildly to the wand. "Come on! You've got to do something!"   
  
The wolf convulsed, yellow eyes rolling back into a thick skull. James couldn't think, he couldn't cast a spell or compose an incantation… all James could do was stare at his hand, tip wet with blood, and scream and scream and scream… _

__

  
  
How scared Prongs had been when it had happened, when his hoof had fallen down at the wrong moment and caught the werewolf across the chest. Sirius saw it happening all so slowly, saw James start screaming at something, most likely in shock. Lupin was dying. Sirius was terrified… it was all his fault.   
  
Unconsciously, Black gently removed his hand as he felt a small wash of that old terror come over him, followed by an unspeakable guilt. Moony had been attacking Prongs, Prongs had simply defended himself. He had nearly gotten Remus killed over an argument that did not even involve him.   
  
Sirius winced and felt his stomach turn, almost as if was going to be sick. The old images swam thickly in his head and he turned to look upon Lupin's drawn face. The lines cut deeply into the once young and charming visage, and although he was still handsome, that youthful, boyish beauty was long dead. He tried hard to picture what Remus would have looked like at the age of twenty-seven, how he would have looked on his thirty-first birthday, what he had looked like when his condition hadn't drug him down…   
  
The years had swallowed them both, consuming the space between as if it were no more important than a few days. What did he know of Remus now? Had he found a small niche for himself in the world? Had he been happy? Did he find love, at least for a short while?   
  
This was an alien man floating in the water before him; this was someone very different from the Moony of their youth. How could Sirius have any idea of all of the things that had happened since the end of the war? Remus Lupin was an aging, socially ousted werewolf that lived alone in the shadow of his past.   
  
…Perhaps, then, Sirius knew more than he thought.   
  
"How did we end up this way Moony? Aren't these the years we're meant to live?" Sirius whispered, dripping water off of his fingers and letting it run down the creases of the ill man's forehead. "I remember a time when all we had to do was worry about what to buy Lily and James for their wedding gift or the price of box seats at the next Quidditch match." But, he knew what had torn them, all of them…   
  
War was the perfect divider.   
  
It would be his passion for the rest of his life… the war was what had ruined him and he owed himself the chance of justification. When You-Know-Who came back, he wouldn't rest. That would be his war to fight. That would be his chance to live.   
  
The unconscious man shuddered from the lack of heat in the tub and Black came back to his senses. Once more the water temperature was lowered and Remus began to react to the cold by kicking his legs ever-so-slightly. Sirius held him there for several more minutes until he was certain that the werewolf's body temperature would not cause him to spontaneously combust.   
  
If getting the man into the tub was hard, getting him out was damn impossible. Fucking wand. Black drained the tub first, patted the water off the sore-stained skin and ruffled it out of shaggy, patched gray hair. After he had shaken that hair through with the towel, he almost marveled at the way it spiked out every which way in a mess of keratin. Moony's hair was the prime example of mottled color. Random spots of grey appeared in the chaos of the fading brown. Soon that hair might not even be there. Remus aged so fast that it wouldn't be a surprise.   
  
Black nearly toppled headfirst into the tub as he tried to lift the unconscious man from the basin, but on further attempts and several bashes of shins and wrists, Padfoot had the wolf neatly in his grasp.   
  
Remus was by no means a light man, even though he was a scarecrow of a being. Perhaps it was just because Black was just as weak and no longer ran on the adrenaline that had carried Lupin down the stairs. He was not willing to try to take him back up. Sirius was perfectly fine with letting the wolf sleep in his bed, and due to the fact that his room was right across the hall from the bathroom, it was an easy feat. Moving as slowly as he could with a cold, damp and ill naked man in his arms, Black settled Remus into his bed.   
  
The coverlet and sheets settled over his thin hips, modestly covering him. Sirius brushed his hand over the wolf's forehead, pushing stray hair out of the way as his dark eyes that surveyed the new situation. The red sores on the werewolf's chest looked ever-the-more shocking against his pale skin and Black scowled deeply at them. Even though Lupin had shown extreme discomfort at caring for the cankers on him, now that the man was out cold there was nothing to stop Sirius.   
  
The next few minutes were spent in a fury of movement in Remus's small corner in the study that was dedicated to the mixing of the Wolfsbane potion. Small vials and containers were tossed aside as Sirius rooted through the collection of ingredients, looking for a simple fluid that every wizard needed: Maldave oil. Originally it was used as simply a thickening agent, but when mixed with just a drop of a substance with a healing property the oil would simulate the drop and become it. It never was very good for complicated potions as the oil did not have the proper chemical make-up, but to the bronze-pinching wizard, it was good enough.   
  
Finding the bottle at last, Sirius nabbed the tiny, expensive vial of phoenix tears, most likely simulated due to their rarity, and flicked the smallest amount possible into the container. Hastily, he shook it and the clear oil hued itself a cerulean blue… rushing back, he hoped that what he had learned in Potions was not lost on him. Padfoot had had to make this mixture enough times to seal up his own slices and burns, so he hoped that nothing had changed.   
  
Remus had not moved at all in his sleep so Sirius hastily pulled a chair up to the bedside and settled in it. Rolling up the thick black fabric of his sleeves, the dog uncorked the bottle and gently wetted his fingertips. Concentrating on one particularly ugly sore on the right of Lupin's collarbone, Black allowed the oddly colored unguent to drip off his hand and splatter onto the sore. The discolored skin twitched beneath it and, by pressing his fingertips on the wound and making one small circular motion, the mixture caused it to close up.   
  
Relieved by the easy way the ulcer-like repulsion vanished, the dog eagerly attacked the other sores across Remus's chest, repeating the same small swirls as he ministered to them. It was like erasing marks upon paper and leaving only the smallest smudge to show in return. The areas where the treated marks once lay gleamed in healthy new skin, only slightly pinker than normal. As he worked his way down, Sirius noticed that Lupin began to react to his touches, twitching away from the cold ointment that made contact with such raw areas and moving his fatigued legs sluggishly under the covers.   
  
It was when Sirius had worked down low on the ill man's abdomen that Remus groaned every time his skin closed itself up. Black fought to suppress an amused laugh at the rather feeble sound, but enjoyed it all the same. With that sound came a wave of relief. Although they were still quite endangered, for now, he was safe.   
  


**** ** . . .**   
  
Noon had passed and it was almost tea when his eyes finally opened. At first, he didn't see a damn thing, but time allowed his retinas to kick themselves into starting. Not that there was anything interesting to see anyway: just a plain white-wash ceiling.   
  
Wait… wasn't his bedroom ceiling tan?   
  
Ugh… no. Too soon to think. His head was splitting in two and it hurt to even breathe. Maybe because there was something on his chest. One weak hand shifted its way painfully out from under the sheets with the speed of a tortoise and snailed it's way down them to the weight on his sternum. If he had the strength to, he could have just lifted his head to look at it, but one must really crawl before they can walk.   
  
Raw fingertips pressed the thing that caused the weight and it was… it was furry… and warm… and breathing on him: it was a dog's head.   
  
Remus's body hitched in a soothed laugh and closed his obscured vision off; relying all on touch. He was in the guest bedroom and Sirius had stayed with him. How he had gotten there was an obscure detail to be figured later. Gently, Lupin ran his palm down the flat plane of glossed hair on the top of Padfoot's head, brushing the shaggy tuffs that stuck up at the base of his ears and the boney knot on the back of his skull. Unconsciously, he dug his fingers into the soft hair behind the sleeping animal's relaxed ears and scratched gently. If memory served him correctly, Padfott melted for that. There was nothing more soothing than a touch sometimes, and Lupin nearly fell into a trance as he absent-mindedly freed his other hand to rub the large dog's snout.   
  
It took a minute, and then the werewolf felt the hot wetness of the dog's tongue on his hand and his eyes snapped open again too look into the face of the large shaggy beast. It was a handsome dog, even with its heavy head and flopping ears. Lupin ran his hand over its silky face and down its neck.   
  
The dog leaned in close, soot black eyes shining in alertness. Had he been awake for a longer time than Remus himself? The werewolf smiled when the cold wet of its nose pressed to his chin and a soft whine leaked from the beast's throat in question.   
  
"I'm fine." The werewolf rasped, rolling his head slightly so he could see Padfoot better without lifting. "I feel like I've been pulled from the fourth circle of hell, but I'm fine."   
  
One large paw set itself on his shoulder in what Remus supposed was a dog-hug and Padfoot bumped his muzzle against his jaw affectionately. The bed was so much warmer and more comfortable with another in it, and the werewolf signed deeply; the aches in his body ebbing under the soft cocoon of the sheets. It took a moment to figure out that there was nothing between him and those sheets, but it was not alarming. He would ask what had happened to him last night when his voice grew strong enough.   
  
A chuckle rose in his throat again as Padfoot sniffed loudly into his ear, tickling him. Lupin was about to try to move away from it, but stopped short when the dog moistened his cheek some with his tongue and buried its nose in his chaotic mess of patched hair.   
  
Remus felt the silk of the black dog's muzzle brush his cheek as it rooted playfully in his hair, snuffing loudly. _Did Sirius just kiss me?_ Lupin was left to think about it when the Padfoot suddenly pushed himself up onto all fours and looked awkwardly down at him, a light of curiosity shining in the deep black eyes.   
  
"What is it?" The bed lurched as Padfoot leapt gracefully off the bed, looked back to wag a few times, and trotted out.

**. . .**

  
  
Sirius lay calm on Lupin's chest as he felt the man awake, although internally his heart was frantic. It was a relief to feel the ill man stir under his heavy paws, but being so close to him stirred something deep in him.   
  
After a minute, one thin hand wormed it's way down the coverlet, intent on his head. When the stiffened fingers found it, they pet inquisitively, running down along the plane of his skull. The man under him wheezed in laughter, and stroked him carefully. Padfoot bit back a loud groan as the fingers delved into the soft hair behind his ears, scratching at the sensitive spot. Sirius fell into a state of lovely bliss at the touch; something he had been so unaccustomed to for so long. It was almost instinct to kiss the hand when it rubbed at his snout, and when he did, the trance was broken.   
  
Two tired, grey eyes opened to gaze drunkenly at him. For some reason, in that moment, Sirius felt himself drawn back years ago… Back to mornings when he had woken up to those blurred and tired eyes looking at him with the same calm and trust. A touch ran down his neck and impulsively the dog leant forward, touching that dazed and weary face with his nose, asking a silent question.   
  
Remus rasped some reply, rolling his head groggily to observe Padfoot better. He could not stand the look anymore and began to bump the thin jaw with his nose, pushing the werewolf's head a little. If there was one thing he had always done in the morning, it was this. Draping his heavy paw over Lupin's chest to hold him, Sirius buried his furred face into Remus's hair, sniffing noisily in his ear.   
  
It was the laughter that he was looking for, and he got it. Loving the sound of it at such a time, Padfoot kissed the werewolf's cheek, feeling the rasp of stubble on his tongue, and plunged back into the graying hair. The smell of Remus felt like a drug to him, and he felt a euphoria well up in his chest.   
  
There was no scent of the fever. Hopefully what had spurred the it was sedated now. Then, the dog thought on it: fevers were the body's reaction to a hostile alien substance. It was a way of battling infections.   
  
Infection.   
  
Infections were caused by bacteria or parasites…   
  
Padfoot jerked his head upward from his playful rooting; mind finally awake.   
  
The moon would not cause a fever. Tremors and mood flux, yes, even insomnia and loss of appetite… but those were common for the Lichen kind in times of the moon. Fevers and sores were not.   
  
Black stood, shaking the bed and alarming the half asleep Lupin out of his haze. "What is it?" He muttered, blinking blearily at him.   
  
The dog leapt gingerly over the confused and half asleep man, gave a quick shake of his tail, and trotted out the door; heading for the nearest bookshelf.   
  


**. . .**

  
  
An hour had given him nothing but a pile of books and a few flyaway papers. Sirius hated dealing with writings; he liked dealing with the real thing. Fortunately for him, the real thing was up, dressed and walking by the time his inspiration had dulled itself down.   
  
Well, it could barely be qualified as walking. Leaning and staggering was more like it. Lupin wobbled like a drunk man into the study, one thin hand out against the wall to hold him upright. When Sirius moved to aid him, the werewolf coughed in protest, wanting to force himself to do it.   
  
"Good morning sleepy wolf." Black grinned up at his friend as he finally made it to the concoction table that he had made a mess of.   
  
"Is it really?"   
  
"No, I lied." Sirius shook his head. "It's actually past four."   
  
Lupin's face contorted. "Well, that explains it; only four more hours before sundown." The man's head bobbed, as if someone had just shaken him and he had yet to get over it. Despite the way he wiggled, his eyes seemed to set themselves on Black's face. "What happened to me?"   
  
Sirius smacked his hand lightly down on the wizarding encyclopedia. "Fever. You suffered from a severe fever last night and have been unconscious ever since."   
  
"How bad?" Remus had to resort to leaning against the wall, or rather, just fell into it and decided to stay.   
  
"It was pretty bad. You had bite marks on your arm and soaked yourself in sweat." Black's face suddenly adopted a look of shock as he realized something. "Hold on a minute…"   
  
Padfoot left even before Remus had time to comprehend half a sentence, abandoning him in the study. The werewolf looked around, his eyes slipping in and out of focus so quickly that he thought he might have been sick. He noticed the shape of Buckbeak across the room, glaring scathingly at him. For once he was very pleased the creature was tethered. Oh well; it was better to concentrate on closer objects… On the table to his side lay the mess that Sirius made, a mass of encyclopedias and medical related books. Further down was the putrid caldron of Wolfsbane, burping up a few bubbles at it was heated over a small, enchanted blue flame. By the looks of it, Sirius had been taking care of the potion as well as him.   
  
"There, this should help with your loss of liquid." Something hot came in contact with his cool fingers, sending a pleasured shock through his arm and Remus looked down to find himself holding a cup of tea.   
  
"Ah…" The liquid swirled, reflecting the same effect that the werewolf felt internally. His head felt compressed, as if his sinuses had enclosed on themselves. An ache pulsed at the base of his skull and behind sore eyes. The pain in his legs was smaller, but his knees threatened his ability to stand by quivering once and while. Other than the tenderness of his skin, there was one major improvement he had noticed with dressing; the leasions on his chest, arms and legs were gone. Some had still remained on the back of his neck and shoulders, and the werewolf planned to leave them until he saw the vial of Maldave oil on the side table. He had understood well enough, and taken care of the last of them.   
  
Sirius picked through the papers again, almost attempting to organize the chaos he had made. The dog looked about to say something, but Remus spoke up before they grew too distant from the subject.   
  
"What I said yesterday… after that, spell…"   
  
"Was ridiculous." Black quipped in, eyes never leaving the stack of papers. "If I never had come, we'd both be worse off. You'd of laid lame in your kitchen for hours and then died of fever. I'd still be sitting in a cave somewhere and…" the dog finally was satisfied with the organization of the papers and looked up, a smile on his face, "I'd never had my ears scratched."   
  
Lupin coughed a laugh, pulling his lungs up a good foot in his chest. Sirius frowned comically as he leant over the table and gently clapped the wolf on the back. After a moment, the hacking stopped and Remus let a ragged sigh pass his lips, the air punctuated. The wolf closed his eyes as they burned in irritation of use and didn't even jump as a hand massaged the back of his neck, soothing the tense muscles that had corded up as he jerked his head to cough.   
  
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't to that." Black's voice was close and warm in his ear, softening the jarring that normal sound seemed to make.   
  
"No, it's good to laugh." Remus breathed deeply, enjoying the feeling of that human contact he had been suddenly getting again. It had been ages since someone had dared to touch him, and even longer since he had actually felt comfortable in it. "It lightens things up a little."   
  
"You feel warm still." The hand seemed to be enjoying the contact as well, as the other joined with it and they separated to opposite shoulders. "Are you feeling a little cold or feverish?"   
  
"No, I'm fine." He did feel a little feverish, but it was not the same kind of illness. Remus rolled his head forward, abandoning any personal boundaries he had set up to the two hands that kneaded his muscles. "I can't feel the fever anymore except for being a little tired."   
  
"You scared me." It was whispered, as talk would be unnecessary as to how close they were. Black stood directly behind Remus, in a mirror of the grip he had held two nights ago. "I've never seen anything like that."   
  
"It will get worse before it gets better Sirius." Lupin muttered, not wanting to ruin the concerned conversation, but needing to voice a concern that had been plaguing him. A feeling of dread sunk into the werewolf as he thought about it.   
  
"How do you mean?" The hands lessened their pressure and moved to hold his upper arms as Remus swayed.   
  
"In an hour or so… it'll start happening. I'll start slipping out of my mind. It might be a little unnerving for you, but I'll come back in a few minutes. You might just need to try to bring me down to earth." He breathed again, wanting to explain the spells he had been experiencing for months. "They're a sort of sleepwalking, but when awake. It's like being pulled out of your body and watching a film as you move; no control. Most times I can't remember what happens in those few minutes, but I have woken up outside and on the street before."   
  
"Are you in any danger in them, besides being hit by a muggle's automobile?"   
  
Remus smiled for a second before he continued. "Maybe, mostly I just fall or stumble if I move, then wake up as I hit the ground."   
  
"I won't let you hit the ground." Sirius squeezed his shoulders gently and Lupin opened his eyes and sighed again.   
  
"No, I don't think you will. If I remember correctly, you do make good dives to catch a klutzy werewolf."   
  
The dog shook his head, chuckling softly and letting his hands fall off the slumped shoulders. Black moved around Lupin and set his sights back to the table, particularly to the gurgling caldron over the tiny faux fire. "Does this stuff still help you? Maybe taking some would help keep your wandering mind grounded."   
  
Remus blinked at the Wolfsbane potion. It had hardly helped him before, but, then again, he had never seen how bad it could get without taking it. "I could use a goblet of it, just for good measure." The werewolf's mouth tightened in a thinner line. "Plus, I find it make me more alert and ebbs the pain."   
  
"Are you in pain?" Sirius asked as he followed the command, dipping a ladle into the ugly-colored liquid and pouring it into a stone goblet. It flowed like half crystallized syrup and smelled like a compost heap. The dog did not want his friend to drink it.   
  
"Padfoot…" The use of his school name made Black look up, only to see Moony grinning tiredly at him, the lines under his eyes deepening with the shadows. "I'm transforming into a monster, loosing my humanity, and putting you in danger. So, yes… I am in pain."   
  


** . . .**   
  
Sirius had taken post up at the table to watch Remus. Remus, who hadn't moved for five minutes after he got up to wash his hands. They had sat for nearly two hours at the table, forcing down the Wolfsbane and then larger glasses of pumpkin juice and tea to hydrate the werewolf, as he seemed to be shriveling. What little food that could be stomached was eaten, and they chatted dully, even though both of them were wound with apprehension for the coming moon.   
  
Black was pleased with the fact that had Remus seemed to not be showing any of the symptoms he had warned him of; sudden jerks, flashes of aggression, heavy breathing, gnashing of teeth and the aforementioned conscious unconsciousness. Perhaps he would skip the precursor to the moon and just transform.   
  
That was wishful thinking. When Lupin had gotten up to go to the sink, he half stumbled into the counter and merely stood there, head down, staring into the basin. Sirius remained patient for the werewolf to snap out of his daze, but five minutes had already passed without change.   
  
Now, becoming worried, he moved closer to the frozen Remus, looking to see if his eyes were still open.   
  
They were.   
  
And they were yellow.   
  
Lupin did not react to Black's presence and merely looked down on his hands that he now held before him. One thin palm was pointed upward and the amber irises stared unblinkingly down on it.   
  
_What's going on with him? What's he doing?_ Sirius began to wonder what exactly he should do in return when he suddenly witnessed Remus's opposite hand caress one taught wrist. He panicked when he saw the steel of a knife glimmering in it.   
  


**. . .**

  
  
The faded blue lines under the paper-thin covering looked like a spider's network, drawn taught and netting over the underside of an arm. In the cool light of the evening, those lines sang out to him to be severed. They were drawn too tight and some pain would be relieved when the lines were cut, he knew it, but what would replace it was also feared. When the lines were sundered it would become very cold, he would be very tired. He had been cold and tired his entire existence; the broken lines wouldn't feel much different than life itself. But what would come wasn't life, it wasn't anything near it.   
  
When warmer fingertips drew themselves across the cold pale surface he gazed so intently upon he knew that it was his own wrist by the way it tickled. He knew that the lines were his veins, and in those veins was the poison of the werewolf that ate at his body. Never could they rid him of it. Potions would try and fail, but the Lichen were an infected sect of the wizarding world. The putrid, unfortunates of a fateful bite. The villains, the dogs, the monthly butchers…   
  
All because of what ran in those veins.   
  
Yellow eyes, deadened by the evening, found a knife upon the countertop where his zookeeper had left it. All there was, was one quick motion to rid him of the cold. Magic did wonderful things. If he had his wand he could use it instead… there were so many words he had learned to end and alter a life, but he still knew none to fix this error of nature.   
  
The metal winked up into his eyes as it tickled across the tight skin, laughing inside his head, taunting him to force it to bite…   
  
It was then he felt the warmth around his wrist, a hand, not his own, had come to grip it gently. The warmer flesh tingled on his skin, heating his whole arm in it's kind take. A voice whispered next to his downcast head, just as tender as the hand.   
  
"How did you ever manage before this?" It was not a question to be answered, but a muse spoken aloud. "Where are you Moony?"   
  
His head felt heavy as his lifted it up, and the movement made his sickened mind twist in horror at being jostled. Despite the hand and the voice, it was far too cold. It had always been cold, how was he to know the difference in temperature anymore? "I'm here." The lungs pushed out. "I'm always here."   
  
"But you were planning not to be." The voice was almost light-hearted, but he could feel the nerves in it; raw from his abuse. "I didn't think you were ever a thief Moony."   
  
The words confused his hazed mind; there was no more cunning logic hidden in him anymore, the moon had covered all of him with a fog that would only clear when the sun hid herself fully. By then the mists would flee to reveal a monster.   
  
"What do you mean?"   
  
The other was closer now, holding onto him as if he was to escape, but not hard enough to prevent it. The keeper's fingers had taken his hand and pet the yielding flesh of the endangered wrist. "The most cowardly thing you can do is steal your own life." Its voice was strong and knowing, as if it understood full well what it spoke. "Your life doesn't belong to you; it belongs to everyone that knows you."   
  
Something fractured in the back of his mind, and Lupin's eyes awoke, the grey jumping through the amber glaze that had formed. The werewolf turned enough to see the one next to him as the words replayed, and he saw Sirius, one arm wrapped over his shoulders, and his other hand holding Remus's protectively.   
  
_Sirius…_ The werewolf's heart quickened at the realization that he had begun to loose his grip, but could still hear his friend's words. _What was I doing Padfoot? What is happening?_ He felt the cold of a blade in his hand, and dropped it into the sink; surprised. _I wasn't… I wasn't trying that._   
  
Black eyes watched him, their gaze consuming, as the figure broke it's own spell. _You were stronger than any of us,_ he thought, _and now you see fit to break. I won't allow it._ When he spoke, it was an iron statement.   
  
"Your life belongs to me Moony. You belong to me." Sirius watched as the newly-livened grey irises shone in slight confusion at the claim. "As long as I'm here, you're not permitted to rid yourself of this world."   
  
"Isn't that a little selfish?" Remus's lips ticked in the smallest smile of amusement, but the question was sincere.   
  
"I'd think not." Black's hand touched the back of the werewolf's neck gently, keeping the tired face towards his own, piercing through him with his tempered gaze. "Years in a place with no light nor happiness, having to lock away all thoughts you've held dear in case you lost them to the dark." Something had drawn them closer, and refused to let go. "So many memories ran away to them." The cold had fled. "But not you. I didn't let them take you, and I certainly won't let you go now that I've got you once more." Warmth had replaced it. "I lived through hell to see you again"   
  
The silence roared at them and Lupin almost wanted to speak, but Black had caught him in a rush of nostalgia. There were no years between them now, no lost time or lost friends. They had sifted through the wreckage of the past and found each other.   
  
"Would you just take yourself away from me like that?"   
  
"If you stay, I will too."   
  
They held each other desperately, as the dark would tear them apart. Evening had swallowed the sun and night came rushing to them, bringing with it the scent of something dangerous. Momentary peace was just that; momentary. The werewolf knew that the warmth of the dog's compassion for him would not last. Clouds lidded the moon, and the second her eye gazed down at him, he would break.   
  
.  
  


**TBC**

  
  
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* * *

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**A/N:** I'm so bloody dark. Why can't I be happy or upbeat for once? Gah. Sorry if you think I torture Lupin. Like he said; it'll get worse before it gets better.   
  
There's only two more chapters to this I hope you know. I'll give you what you want before the end, I promise! Oh, and in case you didn't read it before… I am doing a pre and post BMR. In fact, this whole thing started off the post fic; The Last of the Marauders. Depressing junk. The Pre-fic will be called Crying Wolf. Damn angsty werewolf I make Lupin… oh well.   
  
They're already half written, but hopefully I'll produce them faster than this one due to the inspiration that will be coming out in a few days. You know, I don't really like those actors they cast… especially not Lupin's. Ugh. I wasn't expecting him to be that attractive, being a graying wolfy and all, but… ugh. .  
You know when I said 'bronze-pinching wizard' … it was originally 'knut-pinching wizard' but then I came to my gutter-senses and realized what I had written. Kinda funny tho… knuts.   
  
On a totally different note, does anyone else think that Rupert Grint's fire-mullet thing is sexy? Cause… well… blush nm.   
  
I won't even pretend to know when I can get the next one up; I'm not doing that again! Love you forever for waiting for me! _GB_   
  
-PS: I timed myself on doing html for this: 9 minutes. Big w00t baby! 


	5. Sanguineous

Title: **Bad Moon Rising**

Book: Harry Potter Series

Pairing: Sirius/Remus

Author: Green Bird

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, but, if I did… I'd kill Cho.

Rating: PG-13 or more or something

**Note:** (Happens somewhere during book #4, just so you know. Early November I figured, before Sirius talked to Harry in the fire.) Slash. Little violence. Limes sooner or later. Angst. Lots of it. Swathed in it like BBQ sauce baby! Oo…

**Notes on this Chapter:** Yay… touchy touchy! Boo! Moony moony! Run! Wolfy wolfy! …sorry. Aroooooo! What you've been waiting for, the moon! Luna has come and we're faced with a rather violent, yet sweet chapter. Don't worry, you will soon the slaked. Next chapter is the last.

* * *

* * *

Sanguineous

Branches broke away easily to his push, which was convenient for the purpose of movement, but horribly frightening… as it drew the silent night's attention toward him. Little did it matter; one could sniff him out anyway. Fear was a rank smell. It would have flooded his own nose if he had not been running so fast.

Somewhere behind him, a lengthy shape pursued with an undying fervor, its intention unsure, yet persistent. The two figures ran fast through the forest's throws, one panicked and one hungered by some unknown need. The night was devoid of any sound but their breath and blundering until the second figure let loose his voice; freezing the woods with its haunting tune.

The dog ran with all of his strength; the werewolf was loose.

* * *

Upon command, Sirius had locked up the house, keeping Buckbeak well inside. The hippogryph had met the full werewolf once before and both parties involved would love never to again.

Nightfall was close and the scent of the evening was thick in the air around them as they walked out into the back yard of Lupin's house, pushing through the gate in his wall to enter the forest beyond. The stretch of wood was large enough to accompany a one night venture… but because of the behavior that Remus said he exhibited when transformed, neither of them had any idea where they would find themselves in the morning. If they got through the night without severe damage, for all Sirius cared, they could both end up in the middle of muggle London.

"Stay close to me." Lupin whispered, as if careful to disturb the air that he soon would shatter with his howls. "I need to know you're here."

Black moved nearer, walking in time with his friend. For a moment, he almost dared to reach out and take Remus's thin hand into his own, but he resisted the need to hold on.

In that sudden urge, his arm had moved impulsively closer. As they walked, their swinging limbs passed close and the back of their hands brushed. With the slight contact, Remus flinched in surprise, feeling the hotness of his body's defense at it. He was too wary, too nervous to think straight.

Black took it in another way entirely and shrunk down, but his feared discomfort was too tangible and the werewolf found it.

"It's alright." Lupin managed, not daring to dart his eyes to the side to catch Sirius's gaze. "You just alarmed me, that's all." There was a pause in sound then, only interrupted by their steps. Remus suddenly became nervous at the possible translations and decided that for once, he would not be cryptic on his needs.

The werewolf's thin hand reached out and his pale fingers enclosed themselves over Black's even bonier ones. Under his palm, Sirius held him back.

Like two shabby scarecrows, they strolled almost smoothly under the trees, avoiding the trunks in their path that threatened to separate them. Under their feet dry leaves crunched, most having already abandoned the tree's arms.

Clouds covered near all the sky, making the evening darker than it was. A lonely blue glow had enveloped all of the world, painting a forest that spoke despair itself. The tones of the colors were so cool they seemed frigid to the eyes, but if anyone else would have looked into this place, they'd of thought it peaceful. It wasn't even close for them.

The blue precursor of night was like an icy breath upon their necks.

When Remus stumbled, Black was faster than he had been the first night and caught him soundly. The convict's other arm came about to neatly fold over the werewolf's chest and hold him upright in an embrace. In his grip, Lupin felt his legs weaken. "We'll stop just up ahead…" the graying man choked out, "don't worry about it."

"You're impressing me." Sirius whispered, taking his arm back and straightening Remus. "I was certain you would be out of your mind now based upon all the other things that have happened to you this spell."

"What can I say? You're a good luck charm." They began to move again, further into the darkness of trunks. Black smiled in the statement, but knew it was a dumb one. There was nothing lucky about harboring a potential murderer and taking him on a midnight stroll.

Just as it seemed that they had come to hobble into the very thick of the wood did light break in fine lines between the trunks. A small clearing, too insignificant to be considered a field, broke the pattern of the trees.

It was a wreck.

Small shrubs that attempted to grow in this clearing had been mutilated into broken masses of twigs. Long scores of earth had been torn up and it looked as though one tree had been felled and processed into woodchips. Letting his eyes wander to the trees they walked slowly by, Black saw the gruesome scrapes each tree harbored in its bark.

"You've been here before."

Remus laughed, or attempted to and simply wheezed. "This is my place. My madness." His free hand came out to gesture to it and Sirius could see how the limb shook. "I come here for my monthly terrors."

The tremor threatened the graying man's legs more and he tottered into Black awkwardly. With a lighthearted chuckle, Sirius wound his arm around Remus, despite the quake his body reacted with at the touch. Walking was getting harder for him now that the session was so near.

Into the clearing they staggered, close together in their almost comical walk. The werewolf breathed harder than he had been, body wound up like a sinister rubber band and just as ready to snap. Sirius's touch felt raw on him and irritable, as if his skin could not take it. When they came near a spot of relatively open grass, Remus pushed himself away and fell slowly down to settle on the turf, relieved by its cool comfort.

Black followed suit, but not as near as he had been. A cautious measure.

There they sat, apart from each other, yet facing, letting their heavy breaths cloud out before them, misted and warm in the chilled air. Their smooth puffs wafted out uncertainly between them, slowly depleting into the night, yet forming one fog of breath.

Such a thing, such a stupid, common thing, struck the two of them and they watched their breaths, watched the frequency of them slow, watched their companion calm from their tension and took comfort in that.

"Are you nervous?"

Black looked up into those fading irises, seeing them to be slightly glazed. "Are you?"

Remus shuddered for a second and pressed his lips in a fine line. "Yes," he replied, drawing his knees in and hugging them, needing warmth, "I am very nervous, but for your safety."

"I've done this before."

The werewolf shut his eyes; they had begun to water again. "Not like this you haven't. You don't know how this will end…"

"I'll be alright," he persisted, "as long as I am able to aide you."

"Sirius…" the voice was raspy, struggling. Black jumped, expecting the words to follow to be the signal he needed to shape-shift. They weren't. "If I… when I turn on you as the wolf. I want you to run very fast. Do you understand?"

"Only if you chase me."

A laugh turned to a dry heave and Sirius winced at it. There was a sickly green color on Remus's face and the man looked blindly across at him. "Are the clouds clearing up on the horizon?"

Sirius understood in an instant; the moon was already out, merely lidded by the clouds. This fact scared him and with a sudden urgency the convict looked up. There, on the horizon, was a break in the tremendous gray that was the autumn's weather. "Yes… there is."

"You might want to get Padfoot out then." Remus was lifting himself up on his knees and shouldering his robes off, despite the cold. The man was always very irritated whenever he tore his clothing in transformations, even if it was frigid out.

There was no question asked and after a mere second of contortion, a black dog sat before him, shaggy and wide-eyed. It was a sadder sight than the normally happy, lolling look that Padfoot had about him, but this was a grave situation.

The last dying light before nightfall was complete and dusk dead, Remus's skin gleamed like a corpse's, wan and crisscrossed. The man shook uncontrollably as he pulled off the last of his clothing, leaving a pair of old, fairly beaten slacks on for modesty, as only Lupin would.

Sirius hated how his friend shook in the cold, hated the look of his sickened body. Why had it always been Remus? The dog wanted so badly to go to him, to let the man bury himself in his warm fur and sink into a peaceful state. But that couldn't happen. He knew that he shouldn't touch him, for the smell of the animal was rising fast in him, and no creature, man or beast, would dare to disturb it.

The sky moved above them like molasses, and they awaited that first ray of light that would end their peace. Remus was gasping for breath now, ragged and awful, almost sounding like weeping. Padfoot shifted from one foot to the other, watching it all in fear.

The fear pressed the sound out of him, forced the whine to pierce his throat. Blinded eyes sought him in response and one hand, shaking and icy, held itself out.

"I have seconds. Only seconds." The words were hard and Remus seemed to have trouble articulating. "Come here… please."

Without question, he did.

One last cloud was against the darkened sky, smeared across the velvet expanse, looking like a streak of blood. The moon that illuminated the mist hid broodingly behind it, refusing to show its face so low on the horizon. It was amazing that the sun had fled so fast, leaving the sky alone and cold. No stars glittered just yet and the only other dot of light in the void was the pinpoint of Venus.

Trembling hands ran their way over the crest of Padfoot's head, seeking to comfort themselves on the velvety fur. The dog fought himself free of the grip, surprising the man that knelt before it. Instead of pushing away, the animal fitted his large head in the nook of the ragged man's neck, wanting those thin and abused arms to wrap around him in a hug. The man did, burying himself into the patchy black fur, trying had to calm the quaking of his body.

"Whatever happens tonight…" Remus whispered to the dog, shutting his eyes tight as his mind wheeled and blacked. The next time he saw light, it would be the moon's, "whatever I do… know that…" He choked as the wind shifted… only a veil hid her venomous gaze now. Breathing was harder, but an old endurance forced the words from him, "… know that I…" The grip on the sable fur tighten painfully as he struggled, both his mutating body and frigid, mistrusting mind fighting against it. In the end, even they weren't enough. "… Know that I _trust_ you, Sirius."

Remus pushed the dog away with all of his might, making the animagus stumble back. Padfoot's dark eyes widened in shock, both at the minor utterance and the action afterward. After only a second of observation, he became very aware as to why…

It was happening.

Luna had found them.

So fast… it had always happened so fast in school. One moment Remus would be there, ragged and restless, and then the next… a haggard werewolf in the boy's robes.

This was not the same thing. Sirius's mind raced back to that fateful letter he had received… what, only a week ago? It seemed like so much longer. Ages. Those words he had read stuck to his memory as he saw the truth of them now, bent double before him.

_-my body seems to refuse to transform…-_

That was exactly what was happening to the man before him. Two parts of a whole twisted angrily in their one, fighting against each other. Remus groaned heavily as he pressed his forehead to the ground, clutching his stomach as if trying to hold his shifting ribs in place. They cracked under his grasping palms, jerking so violently that all of his body followed in response, throwing him onto his side.

From that position Padfoot could see the pupil-less amber eyes that stared from an agape face. Teeth had lengthened in the gasping mouth that expelled an animalistic growl of pain, not yet wailing, but on the verge.

Thinned legs kicked desperately, the small, newly formed claws on already bare feet caught in the soil and drew long scores in the ground. Those feet cracked sickeningly as they tried to lengthen out, attempting to form the heavy paws that would support the monster.

The half-man lurched onto his back to stare up at the source of his torment. As the light of her struck his face, a contorted spine arched upward sharply, throwing his heavy head back. The human began to fight, flattening the muzzled head and compacting the torso back into the original shape.

As it jerked at the drastic shifting, something else seemed to plague the transforming beast more than the disconnecting of its own bones. In a sudden spell of spastic thrashing, the figure rolled back onto its stomach, clawed hands tearing at its flesh roughly.

A sound boomed from his throat, seething and pained; a tortured whine. The beast writhed as if something was swarming it, clawing over its skin in prickling torrents. As the werewolf thrashed, the lichen blood took over the half form that had developed and finished off the job the moon commanded.

The fit continued, the body lengthened, the face grew sharp, ears pointed upright, hair bristled out in rolls of slick grey-tinted fur and a tail uncoiled itself from the base of the ridged spine. Only when the last bone had shifted into place did the crazed spasm cease.

The wolf that was hunched before him now was unlike the Moony of the past. It was thinner, grayer… older. Not only that, but the shape of him had changed some. He was smaller and weaker looking.

It was not hard to see that the image of weakness was a lie. What it lacked in body could be made up for in ferocity. Padfoot waited, poised and slightly terrified, for the lidded amber of the werewolf's eyes to turn on him.

The nose caught him first, picking the strong scent of dog and fear out on the now stagnant air. A heavy, lolling head lifted itself awkwardly, weaving a little on the ridged neck as it observed the source of the stench.

Tawny hunger shone through the night, illuminated in those monster eyes. Jagged rows of yellowed teeth gleamed sickeningly in a crimson mouth and a ragged, putrid breath spilled out from it. Padfoot did not want to be near this thing. He did not want to see this thing.

It couldn't be Remus.

The hulked shape lurched itself forward like a drunken tiger, tripping over its own massive feet as if it were wearing snowshoes. The dog backed away quickly, but not enough as the enormous hulk bowled him sideways, gaining enough composure back to knock the smaller ground-ward. Padfoot rolled himself up and away, surprising in his swiftness. The animal part of Sirius was begging to run from this thing; frightened of the war in the amber eyes and the dangerous smell of the thing's flesh. The man in him was hardly disagreeing.

There was a scent so terrifying to the dog on this beast that his heart, deep within him, beat like a hummingbird's. Countless hairs stuck oddly on his back and the nape of his neck, strung up by the mood in the night. Now away from the werewolf's strike, the dog poised himself, ready to dash away from any other hostile movement. Yet, Padfoot knew that a confrontation was necessary… it had always been. Every time the dog had met the wolf a fight would break out until one asserted themselves over the other or a mutual respect was struck between them.

But now, with the nature he saw and the wild savagery in the wolf's eyes, Padfoot would do anything not to confront it. Bow to it, yes. Grovel at its massive paws, definitely… but the werewolf did not look as though it wished to strike a treaty. It looked as if it wanted to strike his throat.

So he did exactly what Remus told him he had to do… he ran.

* * *

Blood pounded like a drum in his animal heart. Keen senses spiked above their norm, making the entire claret-tinted world around him sharp. With his speed it seemed to be spinning, the bare trunks and skeletal branches flashing in and out of his night-sighted eyes. The air was jagged to inhale through his nose, for the cold of it stung his nostrils and for that reason he parted his mouth and gasped it in.

One paw caught itself on a root and he stumbled in a panic of limbs. Behind him, there was a scoff of triumph, but the dog would not stop, despite the slight pain in the stubbed toes. There was pain in the other as well, still running like a lurching beast, clumsy with its sinewy bulk.

There was a small rivulet of water running into a gouge and over it the black stray leapt, clearing himself to the other side. The dog paused for a moment to look behind, to see if the shape was still there. It was, and its legs bowed in preparation for the bound over. Padfoot began to flee again, only to be knocked off balance.

Werewolves had tremendously strong back legs. He had underestimated the distance that Moony could jump. Jaws snapped at him when he finally rolled and righted himself, the amber eyes flashing and froth flying. The beast heaved in exhaustion; they had been at chase for near an hour.

Padfoot did not wait for it to get over the shock of catching its small, black prey and took off once more. The wolf gave a great moan of a growl and jerkingly gave pursuit.

The dog was good at this. He was an elusive target and the wolf was wonderfully persistent. Moony always had been. Whenever the prey lost track of his hunter he would call out with his canine voice and draw the monster in again. It was a dangerous game and both beings in him knew it; if the wolf caught him, if the wolf bit him… it would be the end of his human life. In such a state that Moony was in now, Padfoot doubted that he would stop with just one good sinking of his teeth.

Flashes of white passed over his scruffy form, the broken light of Luna herself. She was blood-colored and gravid in the sky, higher now and lurking. All the night was lit by her and the clouds that once laced her head had disappeared. The eclipse was in effect… soon it would be the Earth that would darken her face.

It took a moment for Padfoot to realize that the rhythmical falling of his paws were the only sound. There was no heavy patter behind him, no accompanying animal. The dog whirled about, dark eyes searching, nose alert. No werewolf.

A slight fear ruptured in him and he threw back his head and called for it, the note quivering and smaller than his hunter's. No reply came.

The man in him cursed fluently and the roles become reversed. Padfoot must hunt out the predator, for with Moony away from him, there was no telling what could happen or where the returned Remus could end up. He changed his direction, heading back to the pith of the forest and their starting point. He had run the wolf in circles around it, perhaps Moony merely decided to go back.

There were several fallen trees in this area, as if a windstorm had taken to playing ninepins. Over the slender, rotting trunks the dog leapt, his thin form odd and shadowed in the night. He was too thin, in reality, and after running for so long, his body was in torment.

Had this been what Remus had meant by helping him; keeping watch over the wolf during the night? In his older age it seemed much more taxing a task than it had been when they were young. Then again, the young Moony had also been a little less aggressive and not as intent to kill them. Black remembered how the two canines would romp and wrestle, friendly to a point. How jealous the others had been…

A painful bout of nostalgia struck him and he hated it. It was hard to recount precise memories, for Azkaban had chilled the warmest of them from his mind and locked them deep inside. So deep, that even he was unable to find them. He longed for them, longed to remember exact nights, exact instances of joy and happiness with his friends. He wanted to look upon them now, in times of trouble and dark, and be soothed.

At first, he thought the stag was merely in his own mind, something he had recovered from the ruin of his memory and let float in front of his vision in the clearing in front of him. It looked up at his blackish shape, slender head straight with perked ears and branching horns gracefully arching out from it. An exact version of Prongs. He regarded it dreamily, but realized, with a tired feeling, that this was merely a deer. It stamped its sharp hoof at him in warning, but looked as if it did not plan to run. Padfoot was not a very threatening figure, being so weepy-framed and fatigued.

But, what was crouched behind the stag was.

* * *

Tawny eyes glimmered in hot excitement from the opposite side of the clearing to the animal's flank. This prey was larger, meatier than the small shadow he had been after. It was dumber as well; a blunt and natural thing with blood and flesh and bone… Whetted jaws gaped in hungry desire and the werewolf's body could take it no more.

With a yowl that shredded the night's air, the lanky beast heaved forward, jowls wide and claws bore. In blind panic the stag leapt, graceful legs suddenly wild and lost as it tried to flee from the monstrous thing bearing down upon it. A grim and macabre satisfaction rose in the wolf as it came within striking distance of its prey, but there came a problem hard and heavy into his ribcage.

Padfoot did not know how he was able to put that much power behind his hit, but he did know that there was a glaze over his eyes and a foam at his lips when he did so. Moony was not going to do this; Moony would not kill a stag in front of him.

There was a harsh crunch as his vertebra popped under the impact and the two shapes bowled over each other and tumbled into the shrubbery. The drumming of the fleeing stag could not be heard over the bustle of their furred limbs and gasping snarls. The werewolf was confused, knocked off of his hunt and now upside down in a bush with something pinning him. When the other animal came into his sight, he did the only thing he found natural.

A crack of teeth caused Sirius to scramble off of his downed predator, fearful for the lethal bite of it. The wolf teetered as it stood, shaking its heavy head in effort to clear the muddle of its psyche. His prey was gone… and the one responsible for that was bristling in front of him.

Padfoot was frightened, a mad sort of rabid frightened that stiffened his forelegs and raised his hackles. For some reason, he couldn't run any longer.

They crashed with a yip and snarl, two emaciated canines in a wild rage. Tired legs pushed them forward and jaws snapped at the air nearest to the other's face. The werewolf was the larger, no contest, and the fact that its body was built in an anthropoid fashion allowed it to stand in a hunching way over the other. Two rake-like paws threw the shadowed dog several feet and he loomed up in the moonlight, skeletal and mangy, looking a ghoulish nightmare.

Sirius tried to right himself, but one shoulder hurt from the tackle he preformed and it wouldn't strengthen itself. Ebony irises widened as the werewolf gaped, fangs shining in a rusted mouth.

However, no hit would come. Instead of falling down to tear at the smaller, the werewolf reeled in what looked to be shock. The upright body fell sideways and down onto all spindly fours again as the lunar animal shook itself madly, as if covered with something… something that wouldn't come off.

Predatory eyes dulled and it contorted, giving way to a seizure. Did the werewolf form of Remus undergo the same symptoms of the man? Saliva dripped from its mouth, and it thrashed wildly, making a strangled noise as it tried to flee.

Black followed it for the few steps that it got, but Moony would not go far. The lanky beast collapsed onto his side and writhed like a desert sidewinder, voice broken and in pain. A back leg came up to scratch at the ruff of his neck, scraping with such pressure that blood darkened the shagged fur. He twisted as if his skin was being eaten by some unseen insect. Padfoot ventured near and almost contemplated an attempt to assist when the reek of the werewolf caught him.

Something deeper than human shrunk away at it, like an animal does to wounds and death. This stink rising off the wolf was the plague… slinking and lethal. It was not the smell of the animal himself either, but something fouler… something…

The next cry that issued was more shill than all the others and Padfoot's hair rose all down his spine. What was happening to him?

When the body began to change, Sirius yipped in surprise. Bones cracked noisily at the werewolf's body twisted, shaping itself into something else, something smaller. A man could be seen in the shape again, for the voice changed pitch and the face flattened. Padfoot stared as human and lycan shapes fought for dominance in a weakened body, and in the end… nature came and beat both out.

The new shape shivered before him, less mangy and more skeletal than the first animal that had appeared. Its nose was longer, ears larger and legs more like his own. Moony lay there before him in the body of a pure wolf.

_The Wolfsbane..._ The medication had taken half the night to work its way up past the roiling blood of an ill werewolf. Moony whimpered, more to himself than anything, and took a good while to stand upright. He was sagging and tired… so much smaller than the lycanthropic body he until now possessed.

Remus looked weak. There was no glinting amber in these eyes, only a yellow-tinted silver. What little fur he had was not lustrous and attractive, but patchy and dirt-ridden. Padfoot advanced meekly, wagging a careful welcome to the docile version of the full-moon Remus.

The wolf turned to him, looking frightened, and flattened his ears. Yet, Moony would not flee him; Remus himself was never like that. Remus never ran away. He was miraculously brave… he was the strongest.

There came a small huffing from the wolf as it took in Padfoot's scent and accepted it. The smell of the wolf was still heavily tainted, and even though the dog feared it, he would not allow himself to be repulsed.

It was alarming when Moony's brown muzzle brushed his own in a nameless gesture and two wretched canines wagged their scruffy tails in acknowledgement. Then, without much warning, the wolf turned and began to limp off into the bowels of the shadowed woods. Padfoot hesitated behind.

There came a sequin-like flash as the animal looked back, expectant of him and Lupin's voice echoed in the still, crisp night air.

"…_know that I trust you."_

Remus Lupin trusted Sirius to help him, trusted him to protect him, trusted him to befriend him… and now, he trusted him not to leave him alone in the torture of the night.

Sirius glanced up to the fully eclipsed moon and realized that it was not the curse they looked to, but a blessing. The shadow on it had calmed Remus into the placid wolf state, and would keep him there as long as it lasted. His ribs contracted as he sighed, for that would not be long.

The time they had before madness came again must be savored, so, with a yip of kindness to the other, the dog bounded in friendly pursuit.

* * *

There was the strong taste of rust in his mouth and the unpleasantness of it startled him into waking. It was sour and hot on his tongue, and in response to it, the man choked.

The taste was forgotten in a second's time as his other senses roused from his motion. Pain lanced through like a white strike, glancing off the back of his head and shooting its way down his spine. There was an open wound on his chest, he smelled it, and another on his cheek, for it was sticky with blood. A line of it drew across his lips; the source of the foul taste.

He was listless and brittle in the tart morning air, yet he was also one to endure it with no notice. With a trembling arm scattered with the tiniest lacerations, the man pushed himself onto his back, rolling nosily on the ground and crushing some small sprig into the middle of his shoulder.

Remus Lupin looked up at the awoken world with eyes of hazed gray and a mouth of wounded red. His sight was always the last thing to come about. It, unlike his other senses, did not sharpen the morning after.

They did, however, find the distinct shadow above them familiar.

He could not work his vocal cords just yet, for they were so stretched from the night that they would take a while to tighten once again, but there was no need for it. The one above him knew what was to be done and did it like in old memories.

Sirius Black knelt next to his tattered friend's side and wrapped his quivering body in a robe. Arms, tired but determined, rooted under the downed man's shoulders and slowly lifted him. Standing, he took the other's arms, draped them over his sharp-angled shoulders and lifted him onto his back. The wolf embraced him trustingly, and with face set and cargo secure, Sirius began to retrace their beginning path.

Remus buried his torn face in the raspy folds of cloth and shaggy hair covering his friend's neck. He hid his eyes from the golden light of morning, preferring the sweated darkness of his companion. Knowing that he was safe in this embrace, Lupin let his corded muscles relax and let all of his weight, all of his need fall onto Sirius, aware that he would now and forever be trusted to do the same in return.

Their newest contract was signed in the aftermath of horror and they would uphold it now for the rest of their years.

And thus, in blood and tragedy, the convict and the werewolf knew their friendship.

**TBC**

* * *

I am unforgivable. To tell you the truth, I haven't been writing this at all these past… several months. All of my writing has been honed to original fiction. I'm doing that terrible transition to originality. I suppose a little fanfiction might come out now and then, but all in all… you'll be lucky if I finish this at all.

In case you were wondering why? I have no clue how to end it.

The Straying Feather Duster  
_Green Bird_


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